


Harbinger

by MyBlueSkye



Series: Warriors of Jorrvaskr [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Dimension Travel, Eventual Sex, F/M, Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Modern Girl in Skyrim, Not Canon Compliant, Psychological Trauma, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2018-10-28 01:46:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 78,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10821159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyBlueSkye/pseuds/MyBlueSkye
Summary: The mantle of Harbinger’s not settled easy on Vilkas's shoulders in the year it’s been his. He’s a hero of the province – a dragonslayer and a fierce warrior – but inside, he still feels like a whelp.Lilah and her daughter Maddy need his help - they’ve been pulled into Skyrim against their will. A monstrous evil that’s lurked in the shadows for over a century is making another play for power, and Lilah, a mystery in her own right, is central to their plans to plunge Tamriel into darkness. To survive, the displaced Earthlings need the combined might of the Companions, the Dragonborn, and Paarthurnax himself.But is Vilkas ready to step up and lead? He’s keeping deadly secrets, and hasn’t learned to trust his own strength or that of his friends and family. Darkness is falling - to keep it at bay, Vilkas must let go of the past and become his own man. And, most importantly, realize he was never meant to do any of it alone.** If you haven't read Sun on Stone, here's what you need to know: Gillian is the Dovahkiin. She's married to Argis the Bulwark. They met in Markarth during a mission, did the whole whirlwind romance thing, and now live in Whiterun.





	1. To the Lake of Deep Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and constructive criticism greatly appreciated. If you’re an author and leave me a comment, I’ll find your work and do the same for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: song lyrics from Wind on Sea, by Anuna

Vilkas jumped at the knock on the door, upsetting his inkwell and spilling black sludge all over the Second Seed ledger he’d been balancing. Or trying to – he’d just read the same line ten times, and thanks to the growing splotch, there wouldn’t be an eleventh. _Eh, crossing I’s and dotting T’s can wait awhile_.

He tossed his quill over his shoulder and pulled at his back as he stretched, his sleeve catching on the rough wood of his chair. It needed to be replaced, he thought, and smiled. A memory floated unbidden through his mind. He and his brother on Kodlak's knee in this very chair, fussing as the old Harbinger batted their curious fingers away from his quill. And his knife. And whatever else toddlers shouldn't be touching that seemed oh-so-attractive to their chubby little hands. “Come in," he said, pushing the past away and covering the ink blot with a crumpled sheet of paper.

"Harbinger?" Ria peeked her head around the door and grimaced at Vilkas's eye-roll. "Sorry, I meant to say Vilkas, but then I opened the door and...old habits die hard, you know?" She hopped in on her crutch and sat down at the desk, her eyes soft as she glanced around Kodlak's old chambers. Absolutely nothing had changed. "Anyway, we have a contract. Maybe I shouldn't have accepted, but…" she broke off, sniffing, and noticed the ink splattered on the table and the floor. "What happened?"

“Paperwork happened. This was all so much more fun when Kodlak took care of the books,” Vilkas said, groaning. “I feel like I’ve been sitting at this desk since Winter. I’ll clean it up later. _Don’t_ tell Tilma.” He furrowed his brow. “Wait, what’s the contract? Why would we not accept?”

“Well, there’s no one here who can take it. I would, but…” she pointed down at the bandage and splint wrapped around her shattered ankle. “Danica said this still needs a week or two to fully heal.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be back killing bears single-handed before you know it,” he said, grinning at Ria’s blush. Nine years had passed since she’d been a whelp, bragging about the bear she’d killed to anyone who’d listen. It was still funny. “Where’s Aela?”

“I don’t know. She was supposed to be back from Riften today, but no one’s seen her yet.”

“Farkas? No, he’s still in Markarth.” Vilkas huffed and leaned back, hands folded behind his head. His brother was taking some well-deserved time off, but managing contract assignments was his specialty, and things got a bit confusing without him. 

“Athis and Njada are still in Winterhold, I take it?”

“Yep, and Torvar’s still up in Dawnstar with a couple of the new whelps, investigating a kidnapping. Local girl.” Ria privately thought the whelps would be shouldering most of the weight, since Torvar’s main skill consisted of keeping his laziness concealed from the Circle. It was their _own_ fault – hers, Njada’s, and Athis’s. They’d been whelps together and covered up for him out of solidarity. After a while, it just became routine, and Torvar’d never stepped up.

“Gillian? No, she and Argis are still…ok, what’s the contract, then? I can take it,” he felt his back straighten as if a weight had fallen from his shoulders. He’d been staring at the ledgers too long anyway. Some action was exactly what he needed.

“It’s a request from the Jarl of Falkreath himself, otherwise I would have wanted it substantiated before we took it on. It’s a weird one,” Ria said, shaking her head. “There’s something going on in Lake Ilinalta. A strange mist around the island, you know, where the Lady Stone is. And screaming, chanting, weird animal noises. Lightning strikes. They thought necromancers, but didn’t want to get too close.”

“No, they wouldn’t,” Vilkas said, scratching his newly-trimmed beard while he considered, his green eyes twinkling. “One of the new whelps is a mage, right? Came down from the College end of First Seed?”

“Yes. Two of them are, actually. Twins – brother and sister. Brelyn and Nina.”

Vilkas nodded and jumped up, walking over to his wardrobe. “Perfect. Get them both ready, and have them pack for an overnight. We’ll leave this afternoon.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Why is the Harbinger going with us? Did we do something wrong?” Brelyn stood, back stiff and red eyes narrowed, on the veranda outside Jorrvaskr. His black mage’s robes fluttered in the breeze, and glimmered with enchantment. He tapped his staff against the floor.

“Ria said no one else was available, and this was direct from the Jarl of Falkreath, so they couldn’t leave it to newbloods. Even ones such as _we_ , brother,” Nina said, grinning as she placed a hand on her brother’s arm, guiding the tapping to a stop. “ _Relax_. Remember, Ulfric is gone, and anyway, this is Whiterun, not Windhelm. I’m betting there’s a good reason why we were selected to go. Just be-“

“Patient, I know. It was just… _easier_ at the College. Nords were the odd ones out up there, and…maybe we were crazy to join the Companions. What business do we have playing warriors?”

Nina snorted. “Savos Aren recommended us at the Harbinger’s request, remember? We’re playing _nothing_. Anyway, the Companions are different since the Dragonborn. They don’t automatically distrust magic now – how _could_ they? We’ve got a shot at something good here, brother,” she said, looking over her shoulder as the door to the mead hall opened and Vilkas sauntered onto the porch, carrying a huge backpack and shouldering his greatsword.

“I have to take this up to Eorlund, get it sharpened. We’ll leave in ten, make sure you’re ready – potions, spells, enchanted stuff...the lot.” Vilkas studied the whelps as he barked out directions and lowered his pack to the floor. He hadn’t seen either of them since their induction, and he thought he remembered the woman – Nina – being the more enthusiastic of the two. Or, maybe she was just more social. In any case, he’d find out soon enough.

As Vilkas stomped up to the Skyforge, Nina whistled. “I’d forgotten how freakishly handsome he is,” she said, and rolled her eyes at her brother’s shock. “Oh, don’t worry, a perfect ass and chiseled jawline aren’t enough to distract me from my goals. He’s not my type, anyway. But he and his brother do provide exceptional scenery. Not to mention the dragonborn’s husband. There’s just something about those giant Nords…”

“ _Giant_ …he barely reaches your nose,” Brelyn muttered, shading his eyes with his hand as he looked up to the Skyforge. “I’m glad you know better than to try to get involved with the Harbinger, sister. But he’s powerful, and power’s hard to resist.”

“You would know…the _look_ on your face when I found out about you and Mirabelle! I wish I had a picture of it,” she said, laughing. “No, don’t worry, brother. Your secret is safe with me, and I have no interest in that kind of drama. In any case, I’m not getting involved with anyone I work with. Been there, done that. Too complicated.” She smiled, remembering their first few days in Whiterun. “I thought Njada was pranking us when she’d said the Harbinger and his brother were twins. Trying to get us to say something stupid, you know? The size difference alone... This mission’s a good opportunity for us, Brelyn. Please don’t piss him off and fuck it up.”

 

* * *

 

 

Vilkas explained what they were up against on the ride downriver to Falkreath. “Sounds like mages,” he said, “and I need mages to fight mages, which is why I chose you two to come with.” He noticed Brelyn’s eyes narrow a little and his mouth twitch. “Got anything to add, whelp?”

“I’m glad the Companions changed their stance regarding mages, that’s all,” Brelyn said, trying to ignore Nina’s pointed stare. She was afraid his attitude would ruin their chances? She might have a point, he thought. He could keep his mouth shut, but damned if he could control his face.

“Gillian changed a lot of minds there,” Vilkas admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not afraid to accept when I’m wrong, but…how do _you_ feel about possibly fighting your own today? What if the trouble _is_ coming from mages?”

Brelyn inclined his head toward his sister, who was practically bouncing in her saddle, waiting for her chance to talk. He’d rather watch the river anyway.

“We don’t have a problem if they’re doing things to hurt people. I mean, do _you_ have a problem fighting other fighters? I know mages can be a close-knit group, but it’s mostly because we have to depend on each other. The lack of trust in Skyrim…anyway, if you can fight other warriors, we can fight other mages,” Nina stopped herself from rambling as she noticed Vilkas’s smirk. “Um, sir.”

“You don’t have to call me ‘sir.’” Vilkas tentatively revised his opinion of the twins. They were equally bright, equally eager, but Brelyn had a huge chip on his shoulder. Just like me when I was a whelp, Vilkas thought. Well, if they became part of the family, that’d change. “Kodlak used to say he was no one’s master, and although that’s technically true, it’s ridiculous to say I don’t get to order you around,” he said, smiling. “But ‘Vilkas’ is good enough. We aren’t in the Legion, and when I hear ‘Harbinger,’ I still look around for the old man.” He took a drink from his waterskin and put it in his pack. “We have a couple hours ride ahead of us, and we’ll stop at Half-Moon Mill and ask what they’ve seen before we start planning. I’m pretty sure they’ll be able to give us more information than what was in our contract.”

 

* * *

 

 

The Companions dismounted outside the little mill just off the road, already disturbed by what they’d seen in the middle of the lake. The mist around the island was silvery and shifting, and they could see lights pulsing inside. No screaming or chanting, but the mist and lights were enough to convince the twins that their foe was indeed magical.

Vilkas turned to Brelyn and Nina. “Let me do the talking when they come out,” he motioned to the mill with his head. “You’ll understand why.”

Brelyn looked at Nina, who shrugged and followed Vilkas up to the front door of a little house tucked under a dense canopy of trees. It seemed like an ordinary mill; she could hear a saw buzzing closer to the lake, and the sawdust drifting in the air around them smelled of bark and sap.

At Vilkas’s knock, a tall, blond Nordwoman opened the door. Her face lit up, and her gaunt shoulders slumped with relief. That was the first thing Nina noticed. The second was the woman’s red eyes. But…Nords didn’t…

She swallowed hard as it came to her – the woman was a vampire. She looked over her shoulder at Brelyn, who, judging by the tight lines on his face, had come to the same conclusion.

"Thank Talos, the jarl finally sent someone,” the vampire said, and then backed up a little as she noticed the twins’ expressions and considered other implications of a warrior at her door. “You’re here about…the island, right?”

"We are. Vilkas, of the Companions. These are Nina and Brelyn, warrior-mages. We were wondering…our contract contained few substantiated facts. The courier hadn’t seen the lake himself. Could you tell us what you’ve seen over the past-”

She sighed and covered her heart with splayed fingers. “Vilkas. I didn’t recognize you. Cut your hair off, did you?” She motioned to Vilkas’s closely-cropped, chestnut hair. “First, how’s Gillian? Haven’t seen her in…almost a year.”

Nina gasped softly. The dragonborn consorted with vampires? Their new assignment was getting more intriguing by the minute.

Vilkas smiled. “She’s good. Got married a couple of months ago. Kept it secret. Gave us all a big surprise. She’ll be back from her honeymoon soon.”

Hert sighed and nodded, slinging her arm out toward the lake. “ _That’s_ been going on for awhile. At least a month, maybe longer. And it’s good you have mages, because I can’t imagine anything non-magical that would look or sound like that,” she said, pointing toward the wall of mist surrounding the island. “It’s mostly quiet during the day, but at night, it looks like a lightning storm inside the wall, and there’s animal sounds, like keening wolves. Dying. And sometimes screaming that sounds…human.”

“Hert, what is this?”

Nina and Brelyn jumped and whirled around to face another thin, blond Nord. He walked swiftly toward them, carrying a pitchfork, his red eyes gleaming in the late-afternoon shadows.

“Hern, it’s _fine_ ,” Hert said in a soothing voice. “They’re from the Companions, about the mess out there. They’re not here for us.”

“No, we’re _not_ ,” Vilkas said, backing away from Hert a step or two. “And as long as we don’t get a contract to investigate murders of exsanguinated citizens, we won’t be. Is there anything else you can tell us?”

Hern drove his pitchfork into the ground and leaned his stringy arm on the handle. “Lights, flashing, screaming...I’ve heard chanting, like a spell. Over and over, all night long. And…” He bit his lip and looked over his shoulder at the island.

The three Companions stared, wondering what could be worse. “What? What _else_?” Nina clamped her lips together as Vilkas turned toward her, his jaw clenched.

Hern sighed. “Sounds like there’s a human in there. Being tortured by the sound of it. There’s animal sounds coming from that mess, no mistake. But I know a human scream. Back in my feral days, I heard plenty of them. We wanted to go in and take care of it, but I don’t want to kill someone who doesn’t need killing. And if we’re in the heat of battle, well…”

Vilkas turned and stared out at the island. What is going on, and what did we get ourselves into, he asked himself. He turned back to Hert and Hern. “Well, we’re here now and can help keep you under control, and provide cover. Do you want in on this or what?”

The vampires looked at each other. “What do you have in mind?”


	2. I Hear the Voice of Rage and Ruin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team takes on the island and Vilkas realizes they should have held out for more money. Among other things.
> 
> Title: song lyrics from Bad Moon Rising, by Creedence Clearwater Revival

“First, we need to know what’s behind that wall of mist or whatever, before we go charging in. Brelyn, Nina – any detection spells in your…um, arsenal?”

The twins nodded. “We can find out how many people are in there. How many living, dead, or undead. We can see portals opening, too. We can’t detect all magic, but knowledge of life and portals will tell us a lot.” Nina said. “And if there _are_ open portals, I have a dagger that can banish whatever’s there back to Oblivion.”

Vilkas nodded. “Good…good. How close do you need to be?”

“Halfway to the island,” Brelyn said. “We can do it. We used to water-walk for fun back in Winterhold.”

“Ok, find out what’s there. It’s getting dark, the shadows should help. Get as much information as you can without being seen,” Vilkas said, turning to the vampires as the twins ran off toward the water.

“Are you two fed?”

Hert and Hern looked at each other and nodded. “There were a few bandits come through last week, so…well, we’ve been provided for. It’s not as bad as it used to be. Someone’s figured out how to make a blood potion. It’s not as good as the real thing, but it’s better than killing decent people.”

Vilkas shuddered, but he was glad to have them on his side. They waited in silence for a quarter of an hour, then heard twigs crunching as Brelyn and Nina emerged from the darkness, their faces drawn and pale, the scent of the lake emanating from their robes. “There’s something weird going on in there, Harb- eh, Vilkas. There are six living people. Four are up and moving around. One’s lying on the floor of a cage. One is, I think, strapped to a table.”

“That does sound hinky,” Vilkas said, his lips curling in disgust. A sliver of foreboding slid down his spine as he remembered catching the Silver Hand in a similar setup, years ago. “Well, let’s assume the incapacitated ones are captives. What else?”

Brelyn looked at his sister, then turned to Vilkas. “The mist…we weren’t sure until we got up close, but it’s _not_ mist. Or smoke.”

Vilkas raised his eyebrows. “What is it?”

“It’s a storm atronach. I don’t know how they did it, but it’s been…torn apart, and reformed as a lightning storm around the island. Some of the noises you can hear now…it’s the atronach. Screaming.”

Vilkas felt his stomach turn as he heard a low moan resound from the island, followed by a thunderclap. He’d never heard of such a thing. “That thunderstorm is an elemental daedra? How is it still alive?” He shook his head at Brelyn’s shrug. What kind of monsters were they dealing with?

“There’re portals opening, too. I can’t tell where they’re from, but…I think it’s safe to say we’re dealing with conjurers. _Beyond_ masters,” Nina said, laughing a little, then gasping at Vilkas’s expression. “I don’t mean to...only I’ve never _seen_ power like this, even at the College. It’s just-”

"Can your dagger do anything about the atronach, in its present…condition? Do you need an open portal to send it back?”

Nina’s eyes brightened. “No, if I stab it, it’ll be banished immediately. The dagger makes its own-“

Vilkas broke in. “Good. Is there-“

Nina held her hand up. “I _get_ it – I talk too much, I do. But there’s something else you need to know. There are several corpses in there. They’re piled up, like garbage. These mages have awesome, enormous power and no regard for life. This is what we’re dealing with.”

Vilkas nodded, understanding better why the Archmage recommended the twins. Chatter and cynicism aside, they knew their stuff and weren’t easy to intimidate. “Do you have invisibility spells? Paralysis spells?”

Brelyn nodded. “I have an invisibility robe. And we can both cast Mass Paralysis. It’ll give you fifteen seconds, but…”

Vilkas leaned forward, waiting for the catch.

“It paralyzes everyone in a twenty foot radius. So, no one else can go with me unless they want to get paralyzed too.”

Vilkas sat back and thought through their assets and liabilities. “Fifteen seconds…fifteen seconds to get to the island _and_ disable whatever’s in there.” If they were dealing with Masters, the element of surprise would be essential. Without it, they would fail. And failure would be deadly. “Nina, can you cast a protection circle?” He clapped his hands together under his chin when she nodded. “Right. Ok…”

“Yeah,” he said, looking up after a minute of silent stewing to find all eyes on him. He cleared his throat. “Here’s what we do. You two,” he pointed at the twins, “go up to the…wall. You,” he pointed at Hern, “go with them, and stay with Nina. Nina, when you’re in position, banish the atronach and cast a protection circle around you and Hern. When the wall’s down, Brelyn, run to the middle of the island and cast Mass Paralysis. Yes, there’s some risk,” he said, looking around the group, “but if they’re as shocked as I think they’ll be when their atronach disappears, it’ll work.”

“No ward will stop Mass Paralysis, just so you know,” Brelyn warned. “But if the conjurers throw something at her, it’s still worth casting.”

“You’re right though,” Nina said, looking over her shoulder at the mangled daedra. “They won’t expect anyone to know what it is; as far as we know, what they did to that atronach is _impossible_.”

Vilkas nodded and continued. “Hert, when the atronach disappears, fly me over to the island, and we’ll attack the conjurers while they’re down. The paralysis spell won’t affect us, we’ll be outside the radius when it’s cast. Nina, when you come to, get past the conjurers and banish anything that needs it. Cast another protection spell around the captives, and stay with them. Stay ready to fight. Hern and Brelyn, immobilize the conjurers in whatever way you choose.” He paused and twisted his mouth into a grimace. “I’d like them alive, if possible, but _don’t_ give them a chance to open more portals. Does anyone have questions or concerns other than the obvious? That it’s a risky plan and you don’t fancy being paralyzed?”

Brelyn and Nina raised their hands, and Nina blurted out “Hert…you can _fly_?”

The vampire nodded, and her husband chuckled softly at their expressions.

“But…I thought,” Nina said, her fingers resting on her high cheekbone, “only vampire _lords_ can…”

Hert just stared at them, eyebrows raised, and Nina’s voice trailed off, her red eyes becoming almost round in her pale face.

Vilkas rolled his eyes. “You two…ok, any other questions? No? Well, if you have any armor or weapons or potions you want to carry, grab them. Anything you need from the horses, grab it. Brelyn, don't forget the robe. I can’t overstate the need for an ambush here.”

They all walked to the edge of the lake to make last-minute adjustments to armor and weapons. Hert and Hern had changed into elegant armor, black as night and softly shimmering. Vilkas held his greatsword at his side and turned toward the twins. “How many jobs have you two been part of?”

Nina thought a moment. “Three, including our trials. One kidnapping, one stolen property return, and one barrow clearing,” she said, a thin laugh bubbling over her lips. “Nothing quite so life-and-death, I’ll admit.”

Vilkas closed his eyes for a moment. They were so _green_. “This is going to be a tough one. Be brave and honorable. Fight as hard as you can fight. But also…watch yourselves. We’ll have your backs,” he said, motioning to Hert and Hern.

The twins nodded, and accompanied by Hern, walked across the water toward the island. “We still don’t know enough about what’s behind that abomination,” Hert said, her arms crossed over her skin-tight armor.

“The plan we’ve got is…” Vilkas sighed, trimming charred cord off his torch. “I know. It’s not ideal. I wanted to wait a day or two, establish routine, plot out the best time to strike. But if innocents are in there being tortured, and corpses literally piling up…I can’t leave anyone else behind that wall even one more night.”

Her shoulders slumped, and Vilkas noticed a drop of blood appear on her lip beneath her sharp canine. “When I realized there were people trapped…I’m ashamed that we’ve not acted, Harbinger. But…”

He nodded, “it’s just Vilkas, please. And I _understand_. If the people of Falkreath knew vampire lords were in their hold, living among them…all the good deeds you did wouldn’t matter at all, and I know it. That’s what I meant by providing cover.”

Hert nodded, and they turned to wait as Brelyn left the group and walked over the water to the other side of the island. He covered his head with the hood of his robe and disappeared. The darkness seemed to thicken as the seconds ticked away. After what seemed like an hour, Vilkas jumped as a low, echoing scream ripped through the silence, accompanied by lightning flashes and gale-force winds spiraling toward the sky. “Ready?”

 

* * *

 

 

Nina watched as the atronach returned to Oblivion, leaving behind a whiff of ozone and revealing four black-robed conjurers in the middle of a well-appointed mages’ laboratory, one leaning against an arcane enchanter. Two stood, hands extended as they controlled violet-colored, swirling portals, and the last braced himself in front of a table upon which was shackled a woman. In his gloved hand, he held a black-bladed dagger.

It was dripping with blood, Nina saw, her face paling even further as she covered her mouth to keep from screaming at the condition of the captives. The smells alone – blood, dirt, excrement, decaying flesh. And, she thought, watching a scamp and a clannfear runt hover near their masters, the acrid scent of daedra blood. Nina’s heart raced. She slipped in the mud, and for one moment, the conjurers turned their attention to _her_.

She cast her ward, then felt herself fall as her brother let loose his spell. Nina counted the fifteen seconds in her head as she watched Hert fly over and land on the island, setting Vilkas down and knocking the enchanter on its side. She watched the Harbinger run through a maze of black robes, swinging his greatsword in one hand and a torch in the other.

The paralysis lifted, and Hern raced off to join his wife. Nina jumped up and sprinted through the laboratory to banish the remaining daedra. A conjurer grasped her cloak, and she whirled around, slashing with her dagger. Blood splashed across her face, and she swiped at it on her way back to the captives, where she cast another ward and stood guard, fire and frost at the ready.

Fiery arcs lit the night, and between the shadows, Nina could see gleaming claws and Vilkas’s sword cutting the remaining conjurers down. Someone shrieked as a lightning bolt flew by, hissing as it hit the water, dissolving in a cloud of steam. One more scream, and silence and darkness fell.

Nina looked for Brelyn under the pale starlight, her hands shaking under the strain of maintaining her spells. Her heart leapt. A ball of magelight appeared, floating around the ruined laboratory, and she could see Vilkas restrain two surviving conjurers under the watchful eyes of Hert and Hern. Brelyn… _where_ was her brother?

And then she could breathe again, for there he was, walking toward her, singed and bloody but alive and whole. “Shhh…it’s over, sister,” he crooned, closing his hands over hers, extinguishing her spells, “it’s over.”

She threw her arms around her brother’s neck and let hot tears fall down her face, not realizing until that instant how scared she’d been for him. For the captives, for everyone. “I…may have been overconfident in our abilities as warriors, brother,” she said, trying to smile. “Maybe we _should_ have stayed in Winterhold.”

Brelyn narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to the side. “I saw you take on that conjurer, Nina. And stand like a force of nature, here, ready to take on any challengers. Like you said earlier today, we’re playing _nothing_.”

“You did well, whelps.”

Nina looked around Brelyn’s shoulder at Vilkas, still carrying his bloodied greatsword and limping toward the captives.

“Vilkas, I…I’ve never seen _anything_ like– ” she shook her head as he approached, speechless for the first time in her life. He clapped her on the shoulder and nodded slowly, pushing past to see for himself what Nina couldn’t find words to describe.

The woman on the rickety table was bloody and bruised. Angry, red burn marks circled her wrists, ankles, and waist underneath leather straps. She struggled against her bonds, staring up into nothingness, her empty eyes encircled by purple and black smudges. How long had it been since she’d eaten or slept, Vilkas wondered, his sword twitching as his fists clenched around the hilt.

A high-pitched whine drew his attention to the cage, and his eyes grew wide as he realized what lay inside it. A girl – thin, shivering, and covered in blood lay on her side in the dirt, one arm cradling her head. Her eyes shifted rapidly under her eyelids. She couldn’t have been more than four years old.

Vilkas dropped the sword at his feet and slid into a crouch, his palms pressed against the bars, his head bowed. Brelyn shook his head a little as Nina took a step toward him, toward the cage.

Hern cleared his throat, and in one smooth motion, Vilkas rose with his sword and turned around. Nina backed up, tripping over the conjurer she’d killed, and Brelyn caught her, unable to look away from Vilkas’s face as he stalked over to the prisoners.

“ _Leave them._ ”

Hert and Hern nodded and walked off to join the twins. Vilkas raised his sword and plunged it into the loose soil and mud at his feet. The bound conjurers flinched under his gaze.

For one moment, steel glinted in the candlelight before plunging down to meet muscle and bone. Vilkas pulled back and lunged forward. It felt _good_. He swung again and again, hearing the conjurers’ screams and feeling their bones crack under his gauntlets. It felt _too_ good. He stepped back, his lungs aching, and wiped blood away from his face.

“This…project,” he said, gesturing around the ruined laboratory. “Whatever little party you’re planning, whatever coward you serve…”

“Behind you, a portal’s opening!” Hert yelled.

Vilkas glanced over his shoulder at the tell-tale swirl of violet. He looked down at the conjurers, one of whom smiled, baring his bloody and broken teeth. “You can’t stop this, _boy_ ,” the conjurer snarled, blood spraying from his lips as he laughed. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with, and you won’t. Until it’s too late.” He twitched his hands, bound behind his back, and the portal grew.

Vilkas swore. He pulled his sword from the ground and swung, taking the conjurer’s head off in one stroke. He stabbed the other through the heart, then stumbled and fell to his knees.

Brelyn and the vampires slowly approached, starting to examine the ruined bodies and equipment. When Vilkas finally spoke, his voice sounded husky and choked. He stared at the ground. “Take everything you can,” he said, his chest heaving. “Books, notes, equipment, scrolls...look for the captives’ belongings. For the Gods’ sake, unlock the cage. And cut her bonds. Let’s see if we can get her mobile, it’ll be easier to get them home if we can. And healing potions – Nina, you’re probably the best person for that.”

Bracing on the hilt of his sword, he clambered to his feet. He looked over at Nina, wiping blood and sweat from his face, and froze.

Nina cleared her throat. “Vilkas, I-I…” she faltered, “I’d already cut…before you-“ she shrugged, standing next to the table where the captive woman sat upright, wearing Nina’s black cloak, her shadowed eyes open and staring. Straight at him.

Vilkas took a step forward and opened his mouth to speak. He shut it without a word. This woman had endured unimaginable cruelty for the gods knew how long, and what was the first thing she saw after being freed? Him, standing before her, drenched in the blood of men he’d killed. Brutally killed. What could he say? How could he expect her to trust him?

She coughed, and took a deep breath. Vilkas’s own breath caught as her lips curved into a smile. “Thank you,” she whispered, tears rolling down her bruised cheeks.

Vilkas exhaled and took a step toward her, watching the woman as she leaned forward, peering at him through narrowed eyes.

“I…thought you used a _bow_ ,” she said, her eyes rolling back in her head as she collapsed, unconscious, on the table.

 


	3. I Sat Down Next to a Living Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Farkas, Aela, Gillian, and Argis return, and there is much rejoicing. By Vilkas, who is overwhelmed. And rightly so. The situation with the captives is taking a turn for the truly strange.
> 
> *Title: song lyrics from Speak, by Nickel Creek

“She said _what_?” Farkas sat on a bench in the Harbinger’s quarters and smirked as he looked from Vilkas to Aela. “You’re good at many things, brother, but the bow is not…well, you couldn't hit the wide end of a mammoth.”

“Thanks.” Vilkas frowned, turning a black-bladed dagger over in his hands. In the two days since they’d returned from the island, he’d scarce been able to put it down. He looked at the red and black markings. They were Daedric, that was certain, but the weapon seemed…wrong…somehow. Malevolent. _Alive_.

He shook his head a little, blinking as he looked from his brother to Aela. “She mistook me for someone else, that’s all. Nothing strange about that. When she finally starts talking to us, maybe we can find out where they belong.”

Aela looked down at her feet, her elbows resting on her knees and, like Vilkas, a dagger in her hands. Unlike Vilkas, she was itching to use hers. She’d just gotten back from Riften as they’d brought the woman into Jorrvaskr. And her child. Aela’d seen red since then. “What they’ve been through…it’ll be a miracle if either of them speaks again. That stab wound in her gut...the scarring. Like they’d cut and healed her over and over, just to see what would happen. I don’t…”

Vilkas nodded. “At least Danica and Arcadia were able to heal their physical wounds after they passed out. Emotional ones, well…” he drifted off, watching his brother’s blue eyes stare blankly at the bedspread. This was going to be rough.

“I know you’re watching me. It’s fine,” Farkas said, sniffing and turning to Aela. “You may not believe it, Huntress, but I wasn’t always the silver-tongued devil I am now.”

Aela threw a pillow at him. He ducked and threw it back at her.

“We don’t like to talk about this, but I might have to, especially given the number I did on those conjurers,” Vilkas grumbled. “Plus, our…experience might help.”

Farkas leaned back against the wall and covered his eyes with his forearm. “Kodlak and another Companion, Jergen. They pulled us out of a necromancer’s cage when we were four years old. Same age that little girl looks, if you ask me,” he said, jerking his head back toward the room where they were staying. “They crushed those mages just like Vilkas did. I would have done the same in your position, brother.” He sniffed again. “Between those two, Vignar, and Tilma, they pretty much raised us. Made us feel safe. But some things…” his voice broke. He lowered his arm and clenched his fists at his sides, his eyes still closed.

Aela looked from brother to brother, her palms outstretched. “Are you – _why_ am I just now hearing this? We’ve been family – as good as – for what, twenty years?”

Vilkas rolled his eyes. “ _Really_? Like you told us _all_ about what happened in Riften? What’s _still_ happening? Where you -“

Aela waved her hand. “Fine, fine…point taken. But…now that you’ve opened it up, what happened?”

“We grew up,” Vilkas said, looking back at the dagger and frowning. “Things got…better. But we had nightmares. I wet the bed. I’d wake up screaming, cold, and covered in piss, just like I was still in that cage. And Farkas…well, Farkas didn’t speak for two years. Not one word. Not even to me,” he said, smiling sadly at his brother.

“Shit’s under the bridge, and we’ve come out the other side,” Farkas rumbled, trying to smile back. “But yeah, I understand what they’re going through. Not all my scars came from fighting, you know. What was done to us, what was done to _them_ …the physical stuff stays around a long time. The emotional stuff _never_ leaves you alo-“ He broke off, and they stood up, weapons drawn. Footsteps pounded down the hallway.

The door slammed open and Gillian and Argis ran in. “What’s going on?” She looked around, wide-eyed and out of breath. “Why are you all armed? Oh _Gods_ , what happened? Is anyone hurt? What are Hert and Hern doing here?”

Vilkas sighed, more relieved than he wanted to admit at their return. He looked at her face, tanned and freckled from the Hammerfell sun, and smiled, sitting back down and motioning for the honeymooners to have a seat on the bed. “It’s a long story…”

* * *

 

 

“Wait, she thought you…but you’re _terrible_ -“

“Yes, I know. I can’t shoot. Is that really what you’re taking away from this?” Vilkas huffed. “And then she passed out. We covered her up and started loading all the conjurers’ stuff. Gill, you’re not going to believe some of the – this kind of magic is far above my pay grade. Even the twins – the _other_ twins – need help with it. If you can’t sort it out…” he tilted his head to the side and bit his lip, slipping the dagger into a sheath at his side.

Gillian stared at him. “You’re talking about Paarthurnax, aren’t you? I suppose that’s the logical answer. We certainly don’t want to take this to Winterhold without knowing what we’re up against. I trust most at the College, but…power’s a heady thing, sorry to say.”

Vilkas continued. “After about an hour, she woke up again, screaming. ‘ _Madison, Madison_ …’ over and over. She freaked out and knocked over the table, so we were all trying to calm her down in the mud, and finally, she crawled over to the cage. She snatched up the little girl and sat on the floor, holding her and crooning.” Vilkas swallowed. “Nina and I watched her while the others finished gathering equipment. We loaded it on a boat and Brelyn pushed it to shore.”

“How did you get everything, and _them_ …how did you get them here?” Argis asked, pinching his neck with his hands and yawning. “Sorry, long day in a wagon over bumpy roads.”

“We can go to the baths later,” Gillian said, kissing his shoulder. She looked at Vilkas. “We can, right? Even though we technically live in Breezehome now?”

“Of course. It was easy convincing her to leave the island,” Vilkas said. “Brelyn came back with the boat and she fairly jumped aboard. The little girl didn’t wake up until we got back here, thank the Gods.”

Farkas nodded. “When she opened her eyes upstairs, and looked around – the firepit, the swords everywhere, I’ve never seen such terror. But then she looked up at her mother, I’m guessing, and went back to sleep. Poor kid.”

Vilkas sighed. “I’m betting that’s the little girl’s name. Madison. Not a name I’ve heard of,” he said, looking to Gillian. “It’s not Breton, is it?”

Gillian shrugged. “Could be. I mean, what’s a name, really. My mother liked the way ‘Julianos‘ sounded, and modified it a little so no one would know I was named for a god who I’m, quite honestly, nothing like,” she smiled. “Her mother could have done the same with another person, or relative, or…deity. No idea. But you don’t know _hers_? The woman’s name, I mean.”

Vilkas shook his head. “She won’t talk to us. She nods and watches us as we talk to her. She seems to understand us, but she won’t speak. She eats what we give her, and her lit – Madison is eating too. And they’re wearing the clothes we gave them. But… we can’t force it. I was _hoping_ …”

Gillian groaned. “You want me to try to talk to a strange woman and child, don’t you?”

Vilkas looked at Gillian with his lips slightly pursed. “Well, you _are_ the least threatening of us in appearance. Which is ironic, given you’re the most deadly. Well, maybe second to Aela,” he grinned between the two redheads. “Maybe you could take a shot?”

“You _could_ try bathing once in a while, boys,” she said with a sigh. “And wearing something besides armor at home. That might be a little less threateni- _hey_!”

Farkas chuckled as the pillow he threw hit Gillian in the mouth. “I’ll have you know no one complains about my cleanliness, Dragonborn. And I’m a _teddy bear,_ like you’ve always said. Just…a six and a half foot tall teddy bear is _still_ slightly scary.”

Gillian narrowed her eyes. “You _do_ look cleaner. What’s going on with you?”

Farkas grinned. “I never kiss and tell.”

 

* * *

 

 

“So they sent you to try, eh?” Hert smiled and stretched her skinny arms out for a hug as Gillian came around the corner. “Congratulations on your wedding, darling girl. I hope he knows how lucky he is. Is he here?”

“Good to see you both, and yes, he’s here and he’s a veritable paragon of a man,” she said, grinning. “You’ll meet him later; I think he’s going for a bath now.” She looked from Hert to Hern and back again. “Underground guard duty seems to suit you. How are you for food?”

Hern nodded. “We’re fine. Last night was dark, no moons out. So, we accompanied two trainees on a mission to disturb a coven of ill-meaning witches. They appreciated being flown over Whiterun Hold more than I thought they might. The whelps, not the witches,” he clarified, grinning at Gillian’s surprise.

“That would have been something to see. Vampires and witches hurtling through the sky.” She sighed and straightened her shoulders, knocking on the door. “Well, here goes nothing.”

A childlike giggle sounded from inside, and Gillian opened the door just an inch or two. When she saw that both were dressed and awake, she slipped inside.

“Hello, Madison,” she said, smiling at the little girl, cuddled with her mother on a fur-covered bed. “Hello,” she said, inclining her head at the woman, noticing her arms tighten around her child. “I’m Gillian, one of the Companions. Vilkas and Farkas and Aela have been my friends for almost ten years. They told me what happened.”

She swallowed, and noticed the woman was peering at her, almost like she was familiar, somehow. Well, she’d thought Vilkas was an archer, so… “I’m sorry,” Gilly said, sitting down on a chair a few feet from the bed, “but do we know each other?”

The woman’s gray eyes, large in her too-thin face, shuttered, and she clenched her hands. Madison fussed at her mother’s arms. “Too _tight_ , Mama,” she said, wiggling around to look at Gillian.

“Where are you from?” Gillian decided not to talk about the island, or the mages. Now wasn’t the time for a catharsis, she thought.

The woman’s face crumpled, and she pressed her cheek into the back of the little girl’s golden-brown head. Her own red-brown hair covered her pale face. After a deep breath, she raised back up, her eyes silvery with tears. She cleared her throat, and Gillian’s heart leapt.

“We’re…not from here,” the woman said, her voice raspy. “I don’t even know where here _is_ , and…I’m not really sure I _want_ to know. Until now, I couldn’t begin to wrap my head around what this place might be…I’m still not sure I can, but Madison can’t stay in this room forever, and…”

Her voice trailed off. Gillian waited a few minutes, marveling at the woman’s accent. The way she pronounced her ‘I’s’ and stretched her words. ‘Here’ became ‘ _hee-ur_.’ ‘Now’ became ‘ _nah-ow._ ’ So unfamiliar. “You know, a few years ago, something awful happened to me. I was…well, my life was threatened, and I…locked myself in my room. Down the hall, in fact. I locked myself in and didn’t come out for a month. And even then, Farkas…he had to pull me out.”

She smiled and shook her head as the woman backed closer to the wall. “No, he _won’t_ do that to _you_. We’d already been friends for a long time, and he knew nothing else would make me come out of my shell. What I meant to say was this: what happened to me was nothing close to what…well,” she said, watching Madison’s brown eyes widen, “and I stayed in bed for a month and didn’t speak to anyone. It’s only been a few days for you. You’re already handling all this better than I could have.”

The woman swallowed, and tried to smile through her tears. She took a deep breath and exhaled heavily, blowing Madison’s hair into her face. The little girl giggled again.

Gillian stood up. “When you’re ready, just open the door and let whoever’s there know. They’ll find me. I’ll be here.”

She placed a leather bag on the bed. “There’s parchment in here, and charcoal for drawing. And some apples. It’s not much, but…if you need anything else, please let us know.” She smiled and waved goodbye, and left the room.

 

* * *

 

  
The woman gazed at the door as she held her daughter, humming an old lullaby she’d not thought of in years. _And_ I’m crying again, she thought, swiping her eyes with the sleeve of the scratchy brown tunic they’d given her. Hand-woven linen, she was sure of it. And Madison’s dress laced up the front. Leather laces. Their room was lit by honey-scented candles, and the blanket on the bed felt – and _smelled_ – like real fur. She sighed, staring at the bag Gillian had left on the bed. Parchment and charcoal.

Madison turned to her mother and grinned, reaching her hand out to cup her cheek. “That lady was nice. Mama,” she said, her lilting voice trembling. “Why are your eyes shiny? Are you feeling better now? I’ve been worried. Can you sing me that song about the fish and the stars?”

“I have _you_ , sweet pea, so I’ll be fine.” She kissed the crown of Madison's head, musing on the ability of children to adapt to the strangest situations and demand only a song for their troubles. The great fist clenching her stomach slowly began to loosen its hold. “She _was_ a nice lady, wasn’t she?”

Lilah Singer cleared her throat and sang for her daughter. “ _Wynken, and Blynken, and Nod one night sailed off in a wooden shoe_ …”


	4. Lift the Weight of the World From My Shoulders Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gillian unravels a little of the tangled knot surrounding Lilah and Madison. Will she figure out what's going on quickly enough to keep Vilkas from springing a deadly trap?
> 
> *Title: song lyrics from Weight of the World, by The Editors

Gillian found Vilkas on the veranda with a slice of apple pie, a tankard of mead, and a stack of letters. “I think you dropped something there,” she said, picking a syrupy apple off the top sheet and popping it in her mouth. “I heard you and Farkas put on a show for the whelps. Sorry I missed it.”

Vilkas laughed and wiped the last bit of goop from the Jarl of Falkreath’s letter. He and Farkas had demonstrated the proper way to disarm an opponent during a sword fight, and Farkas ended up on his ass. It helped that he’d been into the mead already and had trouble keeping his balance. “It was nice to show them that size isn’t everything. I mentioned that, you know, and the whelps laughed,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Are they all _really_ that young?”

“Question is, are you really that _old_? Innuendo is always funny,” Gillian said, sitting down across from Vilkas and staring out at the mountains in the distance.

“So,” he prodded, “what did you find out? Did she say anything? Where’s Argis?”

“He’s packing a bag to bring over from the house. I told her I’d be here whenever she was ready to talk, so I thought we’d stay. I noticed my old room’s still empty…”

“Yeah. None of the whelps have proven themselves enough to have their own rooms yet,” he said, putting his fork down and touching the dagger sheath on his chest. “Well, I suppose Nina and Brelyn, but we’ll handle that after this is all over. So, did she…”

“They seem to be healing well. The mother is obviously scared, but she’s healthy, which is amazing given how you found her. And the child, too. She didn’t tell me her name, but she did speak, and Vilkas…” Gillian trailed off, pursing her lips as she considered what to say. “I’ve never heard a voice like hers. Her accent, it’s nothing I’ve heard in Tamriel. And when I gave her daughter parchment to draw on, she _looked_ at me like…”

“What? Where do you think she’s from, then? Oblivion?” Vilkas laughed, and then sat back as Gillian didn't join in. “I was only joking, Gill. That’s just…not possible. After the Oblivion crisis -”

“I’m not saying that. But, I don’t know where she’s from, and she has _no_ idea where she _is_. She _really_ doesn’t know. You told her she’s in Whiterun, right? Skyrim. That we’re the Companions, this is Jorrvaskr, yeah?”

“We did. Didn’t look like it meant anything to her, though. No recognition. Do you think…do you think she’s got some sort of, I don’t know…memory issues?” He twirled a finger around the outside of his ear. “Bound to be some sort of damage from what the mages did. Maybe she just doesn’t remember.”

Gillian sighed, taking a sip of Vikas’s mead and screwing up her face. “Ugh. That’s something I’ll never get used to.” She shivered. “She might; that makes sense. Hey,” she said, changing tracks. “The magic stuff you guys recovered from the island. Where is it? Might as well make myself useful while I wait for her to come out.”

Vilkas swallowed a bite of pie and touched his chest again. He noticed Gillian was watching and cleared his throat. “It’s in the storeroom next to the baths. There’s no torch sconce in there, so you probably want to take someone with you.”

“That dagger’s seen better days, Vil,” she admonished. “What happened to it? It looks like you fed it into the grindstone hilt first. You didn’t, did you?”

“Maybe,” he smirked, his face reddening. “Farkas isn’t the only one who can’t hold his mead sometimes, you know.”

 

* * *

 

  
“Wow,” Gillian said, whistling and shining her torch around the storeroom. “That’s a lot of stuff. Books, lab equipment, weapons, potions…is this everything?”

Nina nodded. “We didn’t bring back the table and cage, but Brelyn and I checked them for spells and they were clean. We didn’t think-“

“Yeah, no reason for that to be here,” Gillian agreed, stepping over a broken arcane enchanter into the shadowy room. “What’s that?” She pointed to a bag about the size and shape of a Dwarven shield. A garish color, it reminded Gillian of the glowing mushrooms she’d found in caves, just a little more green. It shimmered in the torchlight. A tiny doll with bright blue hair hung from a strap on its side. “That’s…th-“ she broke off, peering at it, shaking her head as she glanced back at Nina. “That’s like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah. That fabric, that color…it wasn’t made in Skyrim,” she said. “Or Morrowind. I’ve been to Cyrodiil, even, and nothing that color exists anywhere in nature. At least nothing that can be used to dye fabric. Look at the writing on this flap. There’s letters, like initials. ‘REI.’” She moved her own torch closer, and gasped as the lettering turned from black to a whitish-green under the light. “Think they’re hers? The initials, I mean? If it’s her bag, it might give us a clue as to who she is. We thought to open it, but Vil-“

“He told you to leave it alone, right?” Gillian grinned, gently scratching the letters on the bag with her fingernail. “And gave you a speech about respecting the property of others?”

Nina giggled. “’Companions respect the privacy of those we’re contracted to rescue.’” She mimicked Vilkas’s gruff tones and posture.

Gillian smiled and sighed. “That’s him exactly. And, he's right. But,” she said, hefting the bag onto her shoulder and moving it out of the storeroom, “I think I might take this back to her. If it’s hers, it might go a long way toward convincing her to trust us.”

An hour later, their eyes started to tire under the shadowy torchlight, but they’d made progress. Everything taken from the island was sorted and categorized according to its properties. They’d do a more in-depth analysis later.

“I’m glad the Harbinger didn’t balk at taking from those monsters,” Nina mused, and narrowed her eyes, looking down at Gillian. “I’ve never seen anyone so angry. As he was when he saw that little girl, I mean. It’s hard to imagine such evil existing in the world until you’re looking right at it. You hear stories. But…”

Gillian nodded. “I’ve fought dragons, and I’m always more surprised at what people do to each other than anything Alduin ever did. Vilkas did what had to be done,” she said, frowning. “So…what do we have here? See anything revealing? Any patterns to think about?”

“Well, they were researching portals,” Nina said. “That much is clear. The spells, the amplifying potions. But…from _where_? Their notes are odd. Strange symbols…could they refer to planes of Oblivion? I don’t know…they were careful, though, to cover their tracks. I’ll have to look these over in more detail later.”

Nina stepped back toward the door. “Oh,” she said, turning and sweeping her torch around the room again. “You didn’t see a dagger in here, did you? It was black, a black blade with a ragged hilt, like it’d been broken at some point. There might have been red on the blade, I’m not sure. Last I saw it, it was covered with blood, so…”

Gillian shivered and motioned for Nina to walk out in front of her. “No. I didn’t see any dagger. A sword. A couple of staffs we can try out later, upstairs. But…no dagger. I wonder where it went,” she said, stepping over the threshold. She closed and locked the door, frowning as she walked toward the stairs.

 

* * *

  
  


Hert and Hern were just starting to get a bit peckish. Farkas had come down to request they hold their appetites until late that night – there was a job at Valtheim Towers. Bandits had taken up residence again and their raping and murdering ways had taken a toll on travelers through the Hold. They needed another lesson, he’d said. Blood potions would have to do until then.

They didn’t mind, though. Gillian and the Companions had saved their hides years before, and if this was their way to pay the debt, they’d pull guard duty for as long as was needed.

“Have you heard anything?” Hert jerked her head toward the door, listening for voices. “Maybe they’re asleep?”

Hern shook his head. “While you were taking a break about an hour ago, the kid was up, running around, yelling and singing about some dog named Bingo. Odd name for a dog. Sounded like she was jumping off the bed. But since then, nothing.”

She nodded, and was about to open her mouth to reply, when the door opened. The vampires stiffened, smelling her scent, her human blood. They were hungrier than they’d thought.

“Excuse me…Gillian said…” she trailed off, her own eyes widening at the red eyes peering at her from the candlelit hallway. But their smiles were friendly and genuine. Lilah willed herself not to slam the door.

“Of course, hon,” Hert said, nudging her husband with a bony elbow. “Hern will run get her, and she’ll be here soon. Getting stir crazy in that room, eh? Can’t be easy with a little one.”

Lilah smiled. “No. She's ready to climb the walls. And…we need baths, I think.”

Hert nodded toward the hallway as Hern turned around at the foot of the stairs. “Here Gillian is now. Now don’t you worry,” she said, her red eyes intense, but her wrinkled face kind. “This is a _good_ place. These are good _people_. I know what’s happened to you so far has been…well, it’s been just awful. But that’s over, do you hear me? You can trust the Companions.”

Lilah nodded slowly. She looked up as the tall, curvy redhead came to the door. She gasped. “My backpack! You – you _found_ it!” Tears welled in her eyes as she saw the fluorescent aqua pack on Gillian’s shoulder. “Oh, I hope my phone’s still in there…”

Gillian handed her the pack. “What’s a phone?”

Lilah stared at her, remembering where she was. Wherever it was, if they used parchment to write on and wore nothing but handmade clothing, it was possible they didn’t know what a phone was. Weren’t there some people up North who shied away from technology? Maybe there were some in the South as well. She hung on to that comforting possibility. “It’s something I use to talk to people. Come in,” she said, walking over to the bed.

Gillian followed. Madison was sprawled out on the floor, drawing on parchment. She looked up. “Hello! Mama said you were going to give us a bath,” she said, smiling. “I don’t like baths, but mom says we stink, so we have to have one. And look,” she said, dropping her charcoal and wiggling her hands. “My fingers are black!”

Lilah blushed as she rifled through her bag. “Madison…” she shook her head, sighing. “But yeah. We could use one. Is that possible?”

Gillian tried not to look at the things Lilah pulled from the bag, but her curiosity got the best of her, and she moved a little closer. A large swathe of knobby fabric in a strange striped pattern. Small, crackling packets of…well, she didn’t know what, but the colors were as unreal as the backpack itself. A white tube with ‘Benadryl’ printed in pink letters. A tiny pair of underwear, blue with purple flowers. And…a silver rectangle. Shiny. Lilah pushed one side with her thumb, and a white apple appeared on its black, smooth surface.

Gillian gasped and tried to sit down on the bed. She missed, and fell to the floor. The child giggled, but Gillian was too startled by what she’d seen to be embarrassed. “What is _that_?”

“Still works,” Lilah mumbled, standing on her toes and holding it close to the ceiling.

Gillian slowly stood up and watched the woman use her finger to slide small pictures around on the glassy surface. “ _What. Is. That._ ” She stared at Lilah, her eyes wide. She’d seen astonishing, frightening things in her life. Dragons, magic, even Sovngarde. But _this_ …

“No service,” Lilah said, and pushed the side again, hard. She pulled a red arrow across the surface with her finger, and it went black. “Might as well turn it off,” she said, tossing it on the bed. She exhaled heavily and looked up at Gillian. “ _That_ is a phone,” she said, two spots of cherry-red color appearing on her face. “I need to make something clear. I’m _terrified_ ,” she whispered, and motioned with her head toward her child. “I don’t want her to hear this. I’m holding on for her, and I’m trying to act normal. _For_ _her_. But inside, I’m screaming. I’m falling apart. And I need to know what’s going on. After we have a bath – _can_ we have a bath?”

Gillian nodded, her face white.

“Good. After we have a bath, we can talk about it, try to figure out... I don’t want to scare her,” she said, tears coming to her eyes, “but I-“

Gillian swallowed hard. “Let me show you where the baths are, and I’ll get you some fresh clothes.”

Lilah nodded, swiping at her eyes. “And thank you for bringing my pack. And for…keeping everything safe. Thank you.” She hesitated, and stuck out her hand. “My name is Lilah.”


	5. In My Mind, I'm Going to Carolina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tragedy strikes the Companions, and Vilkas is pulled away to deal with it. Gillian and Farkas take Lilah and Madison on a tour of the big city, and Lilah starts to realize exactly how much trouble she's in. Hint: it's a lot.
> 
> *Title: Song lyrics, Carolina in My Mind, by James Taylor

Lilah saw the man coming down the stairs, the one who’d killed her captors, before he noticed her standing at the foot. Vilkas. Twin brother of Farkas, though they didn’t look that much alike, in her humble opinion. He was maybe three inches taller than her own 5’7”. His brother, well…he'd had to duck just to get through her door. But that was only size, she reminded herself. She hadn’t seen them together enough to really compare.

In fact, she hadn’t seen either brother since the day after she and Maddy’d been taken from that hell and brought to this strange place in the dead of night. A drafty overturned boat whose rooms were lit by candles and decorated with swords. And warmed by real fur blankets and firepits smack in the middle of the floor. Peculiar, maybe even eccentric, but those who called it home had been kind. One bright spot in this nightmare she’d fallen into.

As long as she lived, Lilah knew she'd never forget the look on Vilkas’s face as he’d pummeled those black-robed monsters with nothing but his hands; if she’d had the strength, she’d have stopped him. And taken his place. She studied him now – he was angry again. Red-faced and white-lipped, he ran down the stairs, looking up just in time to keep from crashing into her. His green eyes flickered as he stopped short, catching his breath. He touched the knife belt on his chest, and swallowed.

“Vilkas?” Gillian said, pulling his attention away.

Lilah exhaled. She could feel warm spots forming on her cheeks.

“You’re going the wrong way,” Gillian admonished. “We’re giving her the tour. Thought you wanted to come with?”

“Can’t. Torvar’s back from Dawnstar. One of the whelps didn’t…” he shook his head, looking down at Madison, who gave him a shy smile. He smiled back, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Lilah’s stomach lurched as she realized the implications of what he said. Who _were_ these people?

Gillian blanched. “Which...?”

He shook his head again. “I don’t know yet, they’re still out past the gatehouse. One of the guards ran ahead. I’m going to get Nina in case the others need healing,” he looked from Gillian to Lilah. “I’ve got to handle this. Um...why don’t you take Farkas instead? He’ll be more fun anyway.”

He nodded at Lilah, touching his knife belt once more. He clenched his jaw, and ran around the corner to the whelps’ dorm.

Gillian stared at the place where Vilkas had been. She grasped the bannister, sliding slightly against the wall.

“We could do this later if you need…” Lilah began, holding Madison’s hand as she jumped up and down on one stair.

Gillian shook her head. “We haven’t lost anyone in a while, so it’s… But no, there’s nothing I can do. Vilkas is good at his job, he’ll get it sorted,” she said, straightening her shoulders. “You two need to get out for a bit. Let’s find Farkas and go.”

 

* * *

 

  
A few minutes later, Lilah opened wooden double doors and walked out into a city unlike anything she’d ever seen. Except in movies, maybe. Cobblestone stairs led to a cobblestone courtyard bordered by shallow, rushing canals. Armored ( _armored!_ ) guards patrolled. A purple-flowering tree grew in the middle, surrounded by a circular pergola. Its scent was overpowering. And behind the courtyard was… a _cow_? So that was why she’d thought they were at a farm. The night they’d been rescued, she’d floated in and out of sleep, but she remembered the smells. Wood, flowers…and poop. Lilah tapped Madison’s shoulder and pointed to the cow.

“I can’t see, Mama,” she said, tugging on her borrowed tunic. This one was a dusty forest green. “Lift me up?”

Lilah rolled her shoulders and sighed, feeling the weight of the aqua backpack more than she would have…before. She was frankly astounded at how well her wounds were healing. She'd expected to see bloody gashes on her legs and torso during her bath earlier that morning, and when she'd remarked on her nearly smooth skin, Gillian had only smiled, and mumbled something about their healers being 'the best.' Even so, her shoulders ached, and the cuts in her side pulled from time to time. “Mama still has ouchies, Maddy. You'll be able to see soon. Look, we’ll walk around and see the cow.”

Madison frowned, but nodded. Her mom had been sick and sad and hurting, and it scared her; nothing else could have kept her in one room for two straight days with nothing to do but sing and draw on that weird paper. “Ok,” she said, and peered around her mother’s legs as they walked down the steps.

Farkas watched the exchange between mother and child, and caught Lilah’s eye. He motioned toward his own shoulders, and Lilah bit her lip, unsure.

She looked at Gillian, who nodded, smiling. She glanced around the courtyard, but no one gave the scruffy colossus a second look except to raise a friendly greeting. “Ok,” she said, “if Maddy wants to.”

“Want to ride on _my_ shoulders? Biggest ‘up’ you’ll ever have,” Farkas said, crouching in front of Madison.

She leaned forward and touched a white scar running across one cheek, her toffee-colored eyes wide and solemn. “How’d you get _that_?”

Farkas made a face. “That one I got when I wasn’t paying attention at lessons one day. I was a little older than you. My brother and I were practicing with our swords,” he said, tapping the hilt of the one at his hip. “I got distracted, and before Vilkas could halt his swing, well…he got me.”

“Um, maybe-“ Lilah began, stepping forward.

But Madison only wrinkled her nose and patted his shoulder. “But it’s fine now, right?”

Farkas grinned. “Yep. And it looks _cool_. So, want a ride?”

Madison nodded happily, and Farkas scooped her up and plopped her on his shoulders, holding her knees for support. The little girl laughed and hugged his forehead. “Mama, I’m taller than everyone! Even _you_!”

Lilah fought the urge to stand behind them with her arms up, just in case. Instead, she thanked Farkas, and turned to Gillian. “He’s sweeter than he looks,” she said, under her breath.

Gillian huffed. “Yeah. Unless you’re a troll or a mercenary, or a vampire, maybe-“ she stopped at the expression on Lilah’s face. “Ok. Too much. Just walk with me. This…is Whiterun,” she said, as they walked down a second set of stone steps to a little marketplace.

Lilah could hear Madison saying bye-bye to the cow, and she giggled. Surreal wasn’t the word. “Is this…a _city_? A _real_ city?” The marketplace smelled like ale, honey, and something musty and damp. And the sickly-sweetness of vegetables slowly rotting in the sun.

“It is. A real city.” Gillian smirked, passing a coin to a pretty woman behind a fruit stand. “This is Carlotta. She has a daughter, Mila, who’s around here someplace. These are Lilah and Madison.” Carlotta nodded and passed an apple to Gillian, who tried to pass it to Madison. Farkas intercepted, winking at the saleswoman.

“Hey!” Gillian backhanded him across his chest. “That is _not_ for you!”

“I’m going to give it to her. I’m not a complete as- _jerk_. I’m not a complete jerk,” Farkas caught himself, passing the apple up to Madison and grinning at Lilah.

“Anyway,” Gillian continued as they walked down the dusty street, “Whiterun – the city – is the seat of Whiterun Hold, the heart of Skyrim. All the other holds surround us…“

Lilah’s attention wandered. She’d been watching people walk up and down the street, and marveling at how unruffled they seemed by armed guards in their midst. Hell, most of them were armed too. With _swords_. And the kids running free through the streets, all begging for rides after Maddy was done. At the mention of Skyrim, though, her rambled musings came to a screeching halt.

“Skyrim? I’ve never…what’s Skyrim?” Lilah looked from Farkas to Gillian, and then out at the snowy mountains looming behind the stone walls and stockades surrounding the city. If this was a living history, these actors weren’t getting paid enough, she thought. But if it _wasn’t_...

“Skyrim’s the-“ Gillian began, but as they neared a small house on the left near a guarded gate, a tall, blond man waved from the front steps. Gillian skipped over to him and took his arm. “Lilah, Madison, this is my husband, Argis. And this is our house, Breezehome,” she said, motioning back with her free hand. “We just moved out of Jorrvaskr a month ago, after we married. It needs work, like stairs instead of a ladder to the second floor, and a larger kitchen and alchemy…”

She let her voice trail off as she noticed Lilah’s face change from friendly and open, to shuttered and wary at the mention of alchemy. Curiosity was getting the better of her. What was her story? There had to be some way she could get Lilah alone to talk...

“Pleased to meet you both,” Argis said. “Getting the lay of the land, eh?”

Lilah nodded. “Nice to meet you, too.” Another scruffy colossus, scarred and tattooed. One of his eyes was pure white. There was a story there, but she was a little too preoccupied to dwell on it. “What is _that_?” She motioned to the next building down, where a woman in a leather apron hammered something on a table. Sparks flew, and Lilah could smell burning metal and leather.

Gillian raised a brow, looking up at Argis, and motioned subtly toward Farkas and Maddy. “That’s the smithy,” she said.

“Like a blacksmith? Horse shoes and swords and things?”

Gillian nodded, cutting her eyes toward her husband, hoping he’d get the message. “That doesn’t exist where you’re from?”

Lilah crossed her arms in front of her chest, her eyes shifting from the smithy to the guards, and over to a man walking by, armed with a bow. “Like _that_?” Her voice shook. “It did, a couple centuries ago. Now they’re just… _no_ ,” she said, her eyes wide in her pale face.

Argis looked from Lilah to Gillian, his face grave. “Why don’t you take Lilah out to the guard’s post? It’s isolated and high. You can see a lot of the country. That might help you get your bearings,” he said to Lilah. “Meanwhile, Farkas and I can watch Madison and she can play. The kids’ll treat her as one of their own. The wall goes all the way around the city, and we’ll not let her out of our sight, I _swear_ it.”

She bit her lip; hopefully there was still some chapstick in her backpack. It _would_ be easier to talk without Madison. And these men… as imposing as they both looked, everyone seemed to trust them. And she needed answers. She nodded.

“Hey, baby,” she said, and the little girl looked up from picking an apple seed out of Farkas’s hair. “Want to play with them?” Lilah motioned to several boys and girls gathered nearby. “Argis and Farkas said they’d show you around. Would it be ok if Mama talked with Gillian for a bit?”

Madison bounced up and down on Farkas’s shoulders. Lilah started to tell her to stop, but he didn’t wince at all. “Yes, I want to _play_!”

Lilah lifted one eyebrow and tilted her head to the side. “Be good, sweet pea.”

Argis laughed. “You have the same bossy face as my wife,” he teased, kissing Gillian on the cheek and walking back to town with Farkas and Maddy, every kid in Whiterun at their feet.

 

* * *

 

 

Once through the gate, Gillian led Lilah up a winding set of wooden stairs to stand under a roofed tower. From here, Gillian could see three figures at the end of the road leading to the gate. And someone...lying on the ground? She squinted. Vilkas was with them, but…

She blinked, and turned her attention to Lilah. If she’d read the signs correctly, the woman was just a few seconds from letting go of everything she’d suppressed over the past few days. A little privacy would be nice. Gillian motioned for the posted guard to go make his rounds. “Dragonborn,” he said, almost reverently, and walked down the stairs.

Lilah looked out over the farms and windmills near the city walls. Bonfires burned in the distance, faint in the setting sun. A horse and carriage lazily pulled into a stone building next to the gate. She took a few choking breaths and burst into tears, flinging her arm out at the mountains in the distance. “What the _hell_ is this place? This is not…it _can’t_ be real,” she said, slamming her hands against the stone wall and burying her face in her arms. She mumbled something Gillian couldn’t make out, then lifted her head and yelled. “Why is there a _cow_ in the middle of _town_ , and a _god_ damn blacksmith? And why the sweet _fuck_ did a guard with a _fucking_ sword and helmet that no one has used for centuries, by the way, just call you dragonborn? That is _not_ a thing!”

Lilah let out a short, hoarse shriek, and kicked the walls. She screamed, and fell to her knees, beating the floor with her fists.

The guard came running back, alarmed by the noise, but Gillian shook her head, her lips tight. He shrugged and turned away, his back stiffening at a particularly wrenching cry. She smirked. Nothing like a crying woman to discomfort even the toughest Skyrim male.

When Lilah’s throat was raw and dry, she sat back against the wall, her arms wrapped around her legs.

Gillian sat cross-legged next to her, unsure what to say. “Motherhood must be a great motivator,” she said. “I can’t believe you’ve kept it together, through…everything.”

Lilah’s chest heaved, and she wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “I can’t let myself fall apart in front of Madison. She’ll stay calm if I stay calm.”

Gillian hesitated. Lilah wasn’t ready to talk about what happened on that island, and who knew if she’d ever be? But questions had to be answered if they had any chance of stopping the conjurers. _And_ helping Lilah and Madison get home. “I’ve noticed Madison seems unaffected by what happened on the island. I would have thought a child would…”

Lilah flinched, and looked up through angry eyes. “She never _saw_ them. She was asleep. They… _did_ something to her to make her _sleep_. They said…they... If I _cooperated_ , and _let_ them…” she rocked back and forth… “they'd keep her asleep while…oh god, they _stabbed_ me. Over and over. Stabbed me with this…black knife. They made me drink… And then it was gone, and there was this purple cloud. And the knife again. I don’t _understand_ …” She screamed, raw and ragged, into the skirt of her tunic, and staggered to her feet. She vomited over the side of the tower. And again, and again, until she was empty and her throat on fire. Gillian put an arm around her, rubbing her back in gentle circles as Lilah heaved and choked, and tried to breathe.

“They…but they didn’t _touch_ Madison. They said they _would_ …I cooperated. They didn’t touch her. They didn't…”

Gillian wiped tears from her own eyes and shook her head, grasping Lilah’s hands with one of her own. “No, they didn’t touch her. _You_ kept her safe. And they _paid_ for what they did – Vilkas told me,” she said, hints of fire glowing in her black eyes. “Now, when you’re ready, let’s talk a little more about where you are and how you got here. And maybe we can find out, to use your phrase, what the ‘ _sweet fuck_ ’ is going on.”

 

 

 

 


	6. It's Been the Worst Day Since Yesterday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilah opens up to Gillian, and decides this is a night that warrants wine and pie. Vilkas shows Lilah who he truly is.
> 
> Title: song lyrics, The Worst Day Since Yesterday, by Flogging Molly

  
“Nope, _not_ today,” Vilkas said, planting his boot squarely on Torvar’s back as the drunk man tried to crawl away. “You’ve got a lot to answer for once you sober up.” He was lucky they weren’t leaving him outside for the wolves. Lucky that Byrne, the surviving whelp, hadn’t stranded him in the Pale. Vilkas wouldn’t have blamed him. He nodded to Byrne, and they each grabbed a shoulder. “If you don’t stop struggling, I’ll have Nina paralyze you. Now _walk_ ,” he said, hauling Torvar to his feet.

A flash of red in the guard tower caught his attention, and he squinted into the setting sun. What was Gillian doing up there? He shaded his eyes with a hand and squinted again. Lilah. She was up there with Lilah. Thank Talos, he thought. Leave it to Gillian to get the woman to talk. Not that her silence was surprising. He wasn’t keen to talk about it either, and he’d not been the one strapped to that table. But, they needed answers.

Puffing out a relieved breath, he turned his attention back to dragging Torvar’s sorry ass through the gate. The Companions would take Devin’s death hard. He’d only been a whelp for a few months, but had already built a reputation as a fierce warrior and a trusted friend. Kodlak would have handled this better. Kodlak would have…

He glanced back up at the tower. _Lilah_. She kept flitting through his mind, like a riddle he couldn’t solve, or a fragment of a memory he couldn’t quite place. What was it about her that stirred his blood? She was pretty enough, after healing, sleep, and food… but that wasn’t it. _Was_ it? He envisioned her flushed cheeks and cool gray eyes, round and wide after he’d nearly run her down that afternoon. He touched the dagger sheathed near his ribs and felt his stomach lurch. No, that wasn’t it. But _something_ …something important.

A retching noise broke his concentration. “Dammit, Torvar,” he said, looking down at the vomit splashed across his boots. The puzzle of Lilah would have to wait.

 

* * *

 

 

  
“Well, that’s that,” Lilah mused, staring off into the distance. “I’m Claire fucking Fraser.”

“Huh?” Gillian tore her attention away from Vilkas kicking puke off his boots. Torvar’s current level of misery was child’s play compared to what awaited him tomorrow, she was sure of it.

She’d explained a little about Skyrim and the Companions to Lilah, just to provide background noise while the woman calmed down. And a few funny stories to lighten the mood. Lilah’d actually laughed at Farkas’s arachnophobia. And sympathized. But mostly, she’d been quiet, staring off into the distance at the setting sun.

“I’ve been holding on to some wild hope that this was all part of an elaborate joke. That y’all were actors and someone put you up to this,” Lilah huffed, gesturing toward the sky with a careless hand. “But there are two moons. Two. I can’t explain that away. Even Hollywood couldn’t…” she swallowed and leaned over, resting her forehead on her fists. “What would you do if you woke up one day and your world wasn’t… What the _fuck_ am I supposed to do now?”

“Your world doesn’t have two moons? And who is Claire Fraser?”

“No, just the one,” Lilah said. She sighed and grabbed the backpack at her feet. Gillian watched as she pulled out a small, white cloth. It smelled sweet, like grapes. She wiped her face, and tucked the cloth back into her pack. She took a sip of something from a green bottle. Lilah made a face. “That’s been in there a little too long,” she said, and swished it around her mouth, spitting over the side of the tower onto the rocks below. “But it tastes better than vomit.”

Gillian nodded and reached out to touch the bottle. It was like glass, but…not. “That’s from your world? What is it?”

Lilah held up the bottle. “This is just water. And this,” she said, rummaging in the pack and pulling out a small red tube with a white cap, “is chapstick.” She smoothed a pink paste over her lips, pressing them together and sighing. “ _Oh_ , that’s better. Anyway, Claire Fraser’s a character in a story. She’s a complete badass who goes through a portal into the past. Into a place a lot like this. Blacksmiths…random farm animals…swords…no indoor plumbing. And adapts and survives. Even falls in love. Ridiculous,” she said, snorting. “That’s not me. I’m not a survivor. I have no skills. How am I supposed to keep Maddy alive here?”

“You put yourself through a lot to keep her safe. You might surprise yourself,” Gillian said, reaching for the tube of chapstick and turning it over in her hands. “Do you know how you left your world? How you got here?”

“No,” Lilah said, frowning. “Maddy and I were exploring the woods behind my parents’ house. We’d gone farther than usual. It was hot, much hotter than it is here.” She shivered a little. “Anyway, there was this weird hollow in the ground, like an upside-down dome. I’d never seen it before. Of course the kid wanted to play in it. So I held her hand and stepped down over a broken root, and we tripped. But instead of hitting the ground, we kept falling. And there was this whooshing, like a storm picked us up and dropped us. And then…the island.”

Gillian tensed, imagining the terror she and her child must have felt. “What was the first thing you saw?”

“Men in black robes. I asked for help – my ankle hurt, and Maddy was crying, but they just stared at us. Like we were bugs.” Lilah snarled, clenching the water bottle in her fist. “I grabbed Maddy. Tried to run. And then…black. Next thing I knew, I was on the table. I screamed and struggled until they showed me what they’d done. She was asleep, and as long as I stayed still and quiet, she’d stay asleep. Blissfully innocent, even in a cage. And then…” Lilah’s body jerked and she clenched the bottle again. It slipped out of her hand and made a hollow noise as it bounced on the stone floor.

“Did they say anything? What they wanted?” Gillian grimaced, trying to contain her anger. And nausea. “Why…?”

“You mean other than the obvious, that they’re monstrous fucks? No,” she shook her head. “They wanted to know how I got here. I couldn’t tell them what I didn’t I know. Then, and I remember this because it made no sense – they asked if I was from “a seriouser oblivion.” I haven’t taken a grammar lesson in a while, but I know that’s wrong. They hit me when I couldn’t answer but… what could I say?”

“After awhile, they made me stop talking altogether.” She looked up at Gillian. “I don’t know what they wanted. But…seemed like they expected something to happen. And were disappointed when it didn’t. They would s-stab my side or my thigh, and something…like a white cloud floated behind me. They yelled at it, like they thought something would answer back, you know? But nothing ever did. What the hell did they expect, yelling into smoke?”

Gillian was stumped. She tossed the tube of chapstick back and forth while she thought. Conjuration portals were purple, not white – “Wait,” she said, her eyes crinkled and narrowed. “What did you say they asked about? ‘A seriouser Oblivion?' Really?”

“Makes no sense to you either?”

“No, unless…” she rested her chin on her palm, biting her nails. “Any chance they said ‘Aetherius or Oblivion’ instead?”

“There’s always a chance. Neither one means anything to – oh!” Lilah said, jerking a little, like something had stung her.

“What? Remember something?”

“Maybe. Maybe it was just a hallucination. I saw things on that island that had to have been…But at one point they made a different cloud. A purple one,” she said, and Gillian perked up. “I was probably seeing things, or hearing things. But it sounded like something growled, inside it. Inside the cloud.” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know what kind of drugs they had me on, but…”

“Hmmm, I know someone – someone trustworthy – I can ask about all that. You could have been seeing things. But it could have been real. Those people…” Gillian said, shaking her head. She didn’t want to overwhelm her. Her plate was full. “Well, I’ve told you about Skyrim. About the Companions. Anything else you want to know?”

Lilah laughed and bent to retrieve her bottle. “I honestly don’t remember much. Don’t get me wrong. It helped, you talking to me while I calmed down. It’s just…there’s so much to wrap my head around, and the thought that I somehow crossed dimensions while walking in my backyard is taking up all the brain power I have. I think I’m just going to have to learn as I go along. And no offense, but I’m hoping it’s not necessary. I stumbled into this place, so maybe I can stumble out of here and back home,” she said, clapping a hand to her mouth. “Crap. My parents are going to be so worried. It’s been days. Weeks, maybe, I don’t know. I have no idea how long I was... Oh, this is going to kill them, not to mention Maddy’s father,” she said, her eyes filling with tears again. She shook a little and pressed her palms into the cool stone. “But I can’t worry about that now. It’s getting dark. We should head back. Maddy…I know she’s safe, but…”

Gillian nodded, and turned to walk down the stairs. “I understand. If she were mine, I wouldn’t be comfortable with her out of my sight, either.”

As they walked back through town, Lilah noticed candlelight in the windows. And well-manicured gardens and walkways. She could think of worse places to be inexplicably stranded in. Arrakis…or maybe prehistoric Earth. She’d take swords over sandworms and dinosaurs any day. A guard walked by and nodded, raising his shield in greeting. “Oh,” Lilah said, turning to Gillian, “that reminds me – what did that guard mean, calling you ‘dragonborn?’ Is that some nickname or…title?”

“No, it’s who I am,” Gillian said, and looked at Lilah out of the corner of her eye, her lips tight. “You looked at me funny, earlier, when I talked about trolls and vampires. Those don’t exist in your world, I take it?”

“They…do not,” Lilah said, slowly.

“I didn’t want to overwhelm you, but I think you’re going to find Skyrim different from your world. And not just because of the blacksmith and cows. There are creatures here called dragons-“

Lilah stopped in the middle of the street and scanned the starry sky. “Dragons? There are dragons here? Like flying, fire-breathing lizards?”

“So there _are_ dragons in your world? Good, that’ll make this ea-“

“No. Just in books. Fantasy. There’s no such things as dragons, or vampires, or trolls, or…” Lilah stared at Gillian, bossy face firmly in place. “I’m _waiting_ …for you to tell me you’re talking about a book. A story. Right?”

Gillian shook her head. “Learn as you go along, remember? The dragonborn – that’s me – is descended from a long line of humans who can slay dragons. Only two dragons live in Skyrim now, and they’re friends – one might know how to help you. The rest are dead, and good riddance.”

“You’re a dragonslayer who’s friends with dragons,” Lilah nodded and started walking again. “Ok. Do the dragons, vampires…do they come to the cities?”

“No, they don’t. Well, the vampires used to, but we took care of that years ago. Now they stay hidden in their caves and castles,” she said, her back stiffening as she remembered Hert and Hern. “Except…I don’t want you to freak out. But…the couple who’s been guarding your room? They’re vampires. But they’re old friends. They won’t hurt you.” She held out her hand. “Here’s your chapstick back.”

“Thanks.” She stuffed it in her pack as they climbed the steps up to Jorrvaskr. “You’re friends with dragons and vampires. Anything else? Werewolves?”

“Not anymore,” Gillian said with a wink.

“I’m glad you’re getting some amusement out of this. I just found out I’ve been living with vampires and didn’t know it. Suppose the red eyes should have tipped me off, but in my world, people can change their eye color, so I didn’t want to stare. Hopefully I’ll find it funny one day, too,” Lilah said, taking a deep breath. “Learn as I go. Ok. Here’s a question. Got any wine in this place? How about cake or pie or anything else horribly fattening?”

“You’re going to fit in fine here,” Gillian smiled and led her away from the front doors. “Let’s go around back. Most everyone will be outside this time of night. The mountains are beautiful, and while it’s warm, we usually serve dinner on the verandah.”

“Ok, but I have to tell you, this is _not_ warm,” Lilah said, sliding her hands in the pockets of her tunic. “Just exactly how cold does it get here?”

“There are times in winter when we don’t come outside for days at a time. Screaming blizzards. Snow drifts to the top of the doors. But it’s late Spring now, so we have a couple months of good weather,” Gillian grinned as she watched Lilah’s eyes widen.

“Well, I always say it’s too hot in the South,” Lilah muttered, and followed Gillian around a pathway lined with shrubs and wildflowers. The snowy mountains _were_ beautiful, pink and purple in the setting sun’s last gasp. She glared at the two moons looming like freakish, overripe melons over a torch-lit, cobblestone yard. Dozens of people, men and women, gathered under the covered porch, drinking from metal cups. No one was shooting or slashing at the training dummies lined up against the stone wall, and Lilah counted that a good thing. She wasn’t ready for Madison to play with real swords quite yet.

“Here’s the verandah and our training area. And up there,” Gillian motioned to a rocky cliff to the left, alight with fire, “is where our own smith forges our weapons. Ah, there’s Madison,” she pointed toward a flowering garden near the wall. “I’m going up to talk to Farkas, and see if Vilkas made it back. I’ll save you a place at dinner.”

Lilah watched Madison play what looked like tag with Argis and a couple of women out on the cobblestones. One of the women caught her, lifting the little girl easily over her head and twirling her around. Madison saw Lilah as she spun, and her face lit up.

She wiggled down and ran into Lilah’s arms. “Mama we had fun, and look – _two_ moons! Are we on Tatooine? Is Luke Skywalker here too?”

Lilah laughed, and held her daughter a little too tightly for a moment. “No, sweetie. Luke was watching the _suns_ set, not the moons. We’re in a place called Skyrim, not Tatooine. But it’s going to be an adventure.”

Madison looked disappointed for a second, but cheered up quickly. “Mama, come meet my new friends. They know how to play tag,” she said, dragging Lilah along with one chubby hand.

While she walked over, Lilah took a closer look at the gathering on the verandah. She noticed a couple of extremely tall people with dark skin and pointed ears. And red eyes. She’d have to ask Gillian about them, although they looked friendly enough. The rest were much like those she’d seen throughout the town: big Thor-like men and women who resembled MMA competitors. They were subdued and solemn, drinking together, and Lilah remembered there’d been a death earlier that day. Gillian, Farkas, and Argis circulated among them. She didn’t see Vilkas anywhere.

Hannah and Masly, the two women who’d played with Madison, were friendly and helpful, and Lilah thanked them for their kindness to her daughter. “You are welcome,” Masly said, her dark ponytail blowing in the breeze. “Madison is a sweet girl. Besides, the Companions were contracted to help you, and that’s what we do.”

As the two warriors walked back to the verandah, Madison pulled Lilah around to the garden. “Look, Mama! It’s a yellow flower. We don’t have these in our yard, do we?”

Lilah inspected the delicate flower with long yellow petals and forest-green leaves. “We sure don’t, sweet pea. But look,” she said, leaning into the garden. “Here’s a pretty pink rose like the one you planted last ye-“ She broke off and hissed as her finger dragged on a thorn. A thick line of blood dribbled near the nail, and she shook it off on the stones, and put her finger in her mouth. She needed a napkin. There were probably some on the porch, she thought, and turned around.

Vilkas stood at the edge of the porch, staring at her. Something about his eyes made her uneasy. His hand moved slowly to the leather belt strapped across his chest. As his fist clenched around the ragged hilt of a dagger, he closed his eyes for a moment before drawing it from the sheath.

Lilah stumbled back as Vilkas stepped down, the dagger in his fist pointed at the ground. She was confused – _why_ was Vilkas acting like this? He’d saved her life. Why was he… She froze as he turned the dagger in his hand. Black…red markings. Why could she not scream? She looked behind Vilkas. Did no one see what was happening?

A drop of blood from her finger fell to the ground, and Vilkas strode faster. He was almost upon her, when Maddy peeked out from behind Lilah and screamed, grabbing onto her tunic.

Vilkas faltered, and he staggered back a step. His eyes cleared, and Lilah watched awareness flicker in his eyes as he realized what he’d done. The horror spread across his face, but the dagger kept going, his arm moving toward her inch by inch.

She crouched a little, pushing Maddy back behind her. She looked from the dagger to his face, and back again, noticing his clenched jaw and frantic eyes. _He doesn't want to hurt me. He doesn't want to hurt Maddy._   

The dagger began to shift backward. Beads of sweat rolled down Vilkas’s face as he slowly turned the dagger around. His muscles rippled and bulged as he struggled, pulling the black blade toward his thigh. “ _Run_ ,” he said, fighting for breath.

Lilah had no doubt Vilkas's struggle with himself would be undone if she grabbed Maddy and fled. The sudden motion would be a catalyst. He'd chase her, and he'd catch them both. But she could get Maddy out of the fray. Lilah swallowed hard, and finally found her voice. “ _No_ ,” she whispered, and spoke to Madison, her face as calm as possible, her eyes never leaving Vilkas. “Run to the porch, baby. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Lilah praised the old gods and the new as her little girl ran toward Masly.

The dagger jerked closer to Vilkas’s side. _Closer_.

A guttural yell sounded through the yard, and Lilah felt something brush against her back. The dagger flew out of Vilkas’s hand and landed behind one of the dummies.

Blood dripped from a cut on his forearm as Vilkas lunged for the dagger. Before he could reach it, Farkas grabbed him by the collar and punched him. Vilkas slumped in his arms.

Before anyone could speak, a swirling, violet cloud appeared in front of the dummy. They backed up, and waited, but nothing happened.

Someone on the veranda yelled. “There’s a portal! Where’s Nina? They need her dagger…”

But no one came. The portal swirled, and for a fleeting moment, Lilah thought she heard… _something_. The low growl of someone just on the other side. Watching… _listening_.

“The dagger. The blood,” Argis said, motioning toward the mess under the dummy. “That’s where the portal opened. Burn it away, Gilly. It’s worth a try.”

Lilah watched as Gillian approached the blade and…shouted at it. In some weird language. She smirked. What was _that_ supposed to do? But her smile died slowly as fire rose from her new friend’s body and surrounded the dagger and the blood. When the fire died, the stones were clean. But the portal remained.

Farkas held out Vilkas’s arm. “Look, there’s a cut. If he cut himself with the dagger…”

Gillian ran over to Vilkas. She touched his arm with one finger, and his blood sizzled and smoked. Vilkas groaned, still unconscious. She ran her finger in a line down the cut.

The portal disappeared.

Lilah stood still as Gillian walked over. Her voice shook. “So, vampires, dragons…they’re real,” Lilah said, conversationally, her head tilted to one side. She motioned toward Vilkas. " _That_ was a magic, evil dagger. And you can breathe fire. And burn things with your fingers. Didn’t tell me _everything_ , did you?”

Gillian stammered. “I-I didn’t want to over-“

Lilah held up a finger and shook her head, her lips a tight line. “I asked for wine and pie earlier. Where would something like that be?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lilah references different fandoms and pop culture references throughout the story. Just a note, Elder Scrolls/Skyrim doesn't exist in her version of 21st century Earth. I know, right? But jumping into an existing fandom wasn't the story I wanted to tell. So she doesn't know anything about Skyrim already - everything's a surprise.


	7. No One Sings Like You Anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilah drinks wine and divulges secrets. Lots of hints, allegations, and things left unsaid.
> 
> * Title: song lyrics from Black Hole Sun, by Soundgarden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a weird combination of fun and sadness and catharsis. I started this story a few weeks before the death of Chris Cornell, and true story - ever since I've been writing, he's been my headcanon for someone in one of my stories. In the Skyrim fandom, a larger version of him is who I picture as Farkas. Always. So, I decided to make this chapter my meager tribute. What Lilah's feeling here is exactly how I felt growing up with his music, and I rarely put myself into my writing. But this is an exception. For a gen-xer living in the PNW, last Thursday was rough. Crying on the radio, people crying on street corners holding up signs...that happened. So, this happened. 
> 
> The rest of the doppelgänger convo is also based on my headcanon for these characters, which might come off a little cheesy, but that's ok. I needed a little cheese this week. There's also a nod to Serenity buried in there somewhere. This chapter was a joy to write, for so many reasons, and I hope you all enjoy it too.

  
Although they’d long since given up the beastblood, dusk remained Aela’s favorite time to take her bow and lose herself in the hunt. Predators emerged at night, after all, and Aela’d never stopped feeling like one. Just a little thrill, she thought, staring sullenly into her glass of wine. She’d gone to Riften last week looking for a different kind of thrill. Riften was so wild, so… _alive_ , compared to Whiterun. It sizzled over the heat running under the city. But this time, she’d been floored to realize it might not be the danger drawing her in, time after time. Maybe it was, once. But not anymore. After all, she could find danger anywhere. Literally, right in her own backyard. But what waited for her in Riften, or what used to, anyway…

Hearing Lilah’s laugh, Aela looked up. If the woman’d had a little too much to drink, well, she’d earned it. Since she’d been hunting, Aela’d missed Vilkas’s wrestling match with the enchanted dagger. She hadn’t seen him get laid out by Farkas, and she hadn’t seen what Lilah’d done to protect her daughter. But as the tale unraveled over apple pie and drinks, she had to admit: she was _impressed_.

And, Aela reasoned, if _she_ ever stepped through a portal into a different world and ended up on a torturer’s table, she’d probably find solace at the bottom of a bottle, too. Maybe several bottles. Gillian had told them about Lilah’s dragon-less, one-mooned world while she put Madison to bed. It sounded fabulous, and Aela wanted to know more. But maybe, given the wine, now was a good time to get to the bottom of _another_ tempting mystery.

“Lilah,” Aela said, reaching over to top off the woman’s glass.

Everyone around the table stopped eating and drinking to stare in her direction.

She rolled her eyes. She _had_ been quiet lately, but not _that_ quiet. “I’m curious. Vilkas mentioned something you said on the island. You thought he used a bow. He figures it’s just a case of mistaken identity, but…given how people arm themselves in your world…I mean, you don’t know any other archers, do you?”

They’d asked lots of questions about warriors and warfare. Explaining guns and tiny knives and armor that didn’t clank hadn’t been easy. She didn’t even attempt to describe tanks and bombers.

Farkas chimed in, his laugh booming. “Yeah, he’s the worst. Just the _worst_ archer. You should see it sometime. Why did you think he should have used a bow?”

Lilah sank down in her chair. “ _Noooooo_ ,” she moaned, hiding her head in her hands. “I’d hoped no one remembered that. _I_ barely remember it.”

Gillian nudged her, wagging her finger. “Oh, no. You know Farkas is deathly afraid of spiders,” she said, grinning as he threw a napkin at her. “And I told you about Farkas dragging me out of my room that one time. Super embarrassing. Argis, Aela…tell her something secret.”

Aela looked up out of the corner of her eye. “I don’t like mead,” she said, earning jeers from Farkas. “No, really. I drink it at gatherings because I'm a Nord, but ugh. Now the secret’s out, I’m never drinking it again. Thanks, Lilah.” She raised her glass.

“And I snore,” Argis said.

“He does,” Gillian nodded, backing him up. “Aela, that was lame. We want to know what’s been keeping you away lately, but we’ll table that for _now_. Because Lilah’s secret sounds even more embarrassing,” she said, turning to Lilah. “You seemed to recognize me too, that first day. So let’s have it.”

“Noooooo!!!” Lilah exclaimed again, and craned her neck to look around the verandah. Most of the Companions were inside, drinking around the firepit or playing cards at the table. Some were in their rooms, sleeping or studying. And a few were down on the training yard. She didn’t see...

“You’re _sure_ Vilkas won’t come out here?” He’d briefly regained consciousness earlier, but had taken a healing potion and immediately gone back to bed, his head throbbing. She hadn’t had a chance to tell him this wasn’t her world. That she needed his help to find her way home. That…she understood. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. Lilah didn’t imagine any of those conversations would be easy ones.

“You won’t see him until morning,” Farkas said, shaking his head. “He’s difficult to knock out, so that punch was one of my best.”

“Um,” Lilah said, hesitating. Was she really going to say this? “I…I thought I was delirious when I saw…when I saw Vilkas kill those mages. With his sword. How weird was that? For _me_ , I mean. And then he turned around, and...I _had_ to be dreaming. Dreaming of being rescued by...” She paused and took a deep breath. “Ok, where I’m from, there are people called actors. Are there actors here?”

Aela nodded. “In plays. Yes, actors and bards play roles. It’s entertaining.”

Everyone else nodded, and Lilah smiled. She wasn’t about to explain television to everyone. Not yet, anyway. “Right. Good. There’s one actor where I’m from who plays a character called Oliver Queen. Only, he’s a secret super hero who goes around at night dressed in a green hood and mask. He fights corruption in his city. And he uses a bow and arrows.” She drank a long sip of wine. “Vilkas looks like him. _So_ …much like him,” she said, trying not to smile. And failing.

Argis nudged Gillian. “Look at her cheeks,” he said under his breath.

Gillian smiled up at her husband and nodded. They were red as snowberries. “Is he…handsome? This actor?” She motioned to her own face. “You’ve got quite the blush going on, so I’m going to assume the answer is ‘yes, _quite_ handsome.’”

Lilah sighed and let her head fall into her arms. “I suppose there’s no chance Vilkas won’t hear about this?” She raised her head. “Please…y’all. It’s just…the eye paint he was wearing looks like a mask, and with his short hair and beard…”

She covered her mouth with her hands, muffling her last few words.

“Sorry?” Gillian said, putting her hand to her ear. “Didn’t quite catch that. Did you say something about leather pants?”

She nodded and took a sip of wine. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this. _Very_ …form fitting leather pants.”

“We know what Vilkas looks like, believe me. And you’re not the first woman to go all gooey. You _are_ , quite possibly, the first to do so after he chased you with a dagger,” Aela mused, motioning around the table with her glass. “Anybody? Seen anything like that before?”

Farkas forked up a huge mouthful of pie, shaking his head and laughing.

Lilah could see the resemblance between brothers in their expressions. Their size and coloring was different, but they had the same smile, the same frown. The same kindness in their eyes. That is, until one of them got possessed by a dagger.

The smile slowly fell from Lilah’s face. “He…he wasn’t himself. I know that,” she said, chuckling softly. “Luckily, I convinced Maddy he was playing charades. Scary charades.” She wondered what Vilkas’s reaction would be to the – complication – of her arrival in Skyrim. He probably wanted to be rid of her soon. She couldn’t blame him; she’d brought nothing but trouble to his town, his home.

Gillian nudged her again. “You’re not getting out of telling the rest by getting caught up in a mood killer, lady. Take another sip and spill it.”

“Alright. Amy Pond,” Lilah said, obediently taking the glass Gillian refilled. “There’s another show – ah, play. About a time traveler who always has a friend – a companion, that’s seriously what they’re called – for adventuring. One’s a woman called Amy Pond. You’re _just_ like her. Looks, personality…everything. That’s another reason why I’d thought maybe this was all a trick? The resemblances with you and Vilkas are just uncanny, so I hoped…”

“That sounds fun,” Gillian replied quickly, trying to stave off another bout of gloominess. “I’ve actually had sort-of experience with time travel, so I suppose that fits.” She grinned at Lilah’s expression. “All in good time. So, what about Aela and Farkas? And Argis? Do they have twins in your world?”

“Argis is too easy. Big, blond…sonorous voice. Sword instead of hammer, but still a perfect Thor. Another character. God of thunder.” She grinned as Argis sat a little straighter in his chair.

“Well, I _did_ train as a bard before picking up that sword,” he said, winking. “What about Aela? There has to be some intimidating woman in your world who struts around wearing bearskins, right?”

“Oh, yeah! Thanks, Argis. Do me a favor,” Lilah said, turning to Aela. “Crinkle your eyes up a bit, and pretend you’re talking to a stupid man who’s trying to tell you what to do. Say ‘you know _nothing_ , Jon Snow.’”

Aela obliged, and Lilah clapped. “I knew it. Ygritte. She’s a character in another play. Red hair, tough, wild, passionate. A warrior. And yes, she does wear a lot of animal skins.”

Farkas grinned. “I can see you saying that to many a stupid man. What about me? Do me!”

“Phrasing,” Lilah muttered, and rested her head on her elbows to study him. There were so many men he resembled just for being built like a brick wall, but they didn’t quite capture what made him… _him_. But… She sat up and motioned to her hair. “Take your hair down. Around your face.” Farkas wore braids on the sides of his head, holding back the bulk of his long, black hair. He pulled leather thongs from the braids and let the wavy strands fall loose. Lilah sighed. Those twinkling blue eyes, striking in his tanned, wind-burned face. Part sweet and soulful, part intense badass. Lilah tilted her head to one side and smiled a sad smile.

“So?” Farkas grinned at her. “Anyone?”

“Yeah,” she said. “A musician. You look like him, with the eyes and short beard and all that hair. But bigger,” she said, flexing her biceps at her sides. “You’re much. Much. Bigger.”

“You look sad,” Argis said, leaning back and putting an arm around Gillian. “Was he a friend of yours, this musician?”

“No, I didn’t know him. He, ah…he died a couple of days before…before I fell through that – portal or whatever,” Lilah said, looking down at her hands. “But it _was_ sad, _so_ sad. He didn’t just die – he killed himself. Just eleven years older than me. I don’t usually feel it when people I don’t know die. If I did, I’d never smile again, you know? But, I came of age with his music.” She closed her eyes for a moment and sighed. “There was one song… I was seventeen. Emotions, hormones everywhere. I was almost ready to leave home. And it…” she shook her head and sniffled. “When I heard he was gone, and how he died…that was the first thing that popped into my head.”

Aela took a sip of wine. “Sing it for us, if you don’t mind. We like music, and the bards who come through here seem to only know two songs. And we’re tired of them. Gillian, especially,” Aela said, smirking.

Farkas’s eyes lit up. “We do need a new song.”

Lilah looked around the table, picking at her nails. “Really? I don’t…”

Gillian put a hand on her wrist. “You don’t have to if it makes you uncomfortable. But we’d all like to hear it.”

“Are you guys going to make fun of me tomorrow?”

Farkas, Aela, and Argis all nodded their heads. “Yes,” Farkas said, “but only because of the Vilkas thing. Not this. Sing, woman!”

Lilah cleared her throat and swallowed. “You’re lucky I’m a little drunk or I would never do this.”

She looked out into the starry night and closed her eyes. And sang.

 

Summer nights and long warm days  
Are stolen as the old moon falls.  
My mirror shows another face  
Another place to hide it all,  
Another place to hide it all.

And I'm lost, behind  
The words I'll never find.  
And I'm left behind  
As seasons roll on by.

Sleeping with a full moon blanket,  
Sand and feathers for my head.  
Dreams have never been the answer,  
And dreams have never made my bed.  
Dreams have never made my bed.

If I should be short on words  
And long on things to say,  
Could you crawl into my world  
And take me worlds away.  
Should I be beside myself,  
And not even stay.

And I'm lost, behind  
The words I'll never find.  
And I'm left behind  
As seasons roll on by.

 

Crackling torches on the tables and nightingales singing in the distance sounded strangely loud in the silence following Lilah’s song. Even those on the training yard had stopped smacking things to listen. Lilah looked around self-consciously; music must really be hard to come by if her voice got that kind of attention. But then again, the song _was_ special.

She jumped as Farkas sniffed, a loud snuffling sound. He wiped his eyes with the back of his forearm.

Aela leaned forward, grinning. “Are you crying, brother?”

Farkas opened his mouth to retort, but paused, hearing a hollow noise on the wooden steps leading to the yard.

“No man or woman is ever thought lesser for having been brought to tears by a bard, Aela. Skyrim honors her bards.” Vilkas spoke in an oddly formal tone as he stepped out of the shadows and onto the verandah. He was _awake_...and wore leathers and carried his sword, Farkas noticed. Something was up.

Lilah froze, staring at the table. He’d heard her sing. He’d heard her _drunk_ - _sing_. Had he heard…anything else? She could feel her cheeks getting red again, and her spine stiffened against the rough wood of her chair.

He took a few steps until he was at her back, and stopped. “That was beautiful,” he whispered, and tapped the top of her chair with his fist.

Some part of her, probably the drunk part, wanted to lean against his hand. Despite her worries, and her better judgment. She gripped the seat of her chair with all her strength, and leaned forward. “Thank you,” she whispered, and smiled into the darkness.

She wasn’t sure how long he stood behind her chair before walking inside. Mere seconds, but it seemed longer. Gillian and Farkas followed.

Aela inclined her head. “I’m going to turn in,” she said, and paused. “If you’d like to learn a few things while you’re here…how to handle a bow better than your handsome hero, for instance, I’d be glad to show you. Until you figure out what to do next, it’ll be helpful to keep busy.”

Argis nodded. “I agree. And Gillian…she wants to take you to meet a friend of hers soon. Someone who can make sense of this situation, if anyone can. Don’t despair,” he said. “We’ll figure something out.”

Lilah took a deep breath and pushed herself up. “Thanks, both of you. I’ve never been more scared, you know. And tonight has helped. So much. Goodnight,” she said, and walked inside.

“Got any bets on this one?” Argis turned to Aela and grinned. “Your intuition was good for Gilly and me.”

Aela drained the last of her wine and stood up. “Vilkas isn’t you, and this situation is way more complicated. He’s going to be an ass about this, mark my words.”

 

 

 

 

 


	8. There's a Darkness Upon Me, Flooded In Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are made to get Lilah on the back of a dragon! Plus, Vilkas has secrets - is anyone surprised by this? Well, they're all absolutely going to be.
> 
> Title: song lyrics from Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promise by the Avett Brothers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's reading this. For some reason, I'm having the most fun writing this out of anything I've ever written. It's just a blast, and if anyone has any ideas how I can make it better (keep in mind, love for Vilkas is totally on the way, just be patient), please let me know. :)

“So you got up,” Farkas said, his face stormy. He’d been quiet while Gillian relayed Lilah’s story to Vilkas. Noticed his brother’s pale face and shadowed eyes. Farkas had been terrified. He’d aimed for Vilkas’s jaw, but the punch landed on his temple. And such a punch could easily have been fatal. He was angry at himself for missing his mark, and at his brother for neglecting his healing.

“With a head injury,” Gillian interjected, leading Vilkas back over to his bed where he gingerly lay down, wincing with each movement.

“Yes, with a partially-healed head injury, and decided you’d go on a little patrol outside the walls? All by yourself, wearing just leathers? Are you _mad_ , brother?”

Vilkas sighed and covered his eyes with his bracer. Most of the pain from Farkas’s punch was gone, but the light still hurt his eyes. “No. I went to see the Jarl. And Farengar. On a personal matter. And Balgruuf mentioned he’d lost two guards tonight outside the gates. Saw a portal appear close to the farm, and when they went to check it out... So, I decided to have a look.”

“All by your partially-healed self, wearing just leathers,” Gillian said, sitting on the top of Vilkas’s desk. “Our objection still stands. We were _here_ , you know. We could have helped. Who did we lose, by the way? Which guards?”

“Julius and Andrika. Julius’s wife…their baby just turned one last week.” Vilkas uncovered his eyes and glared at Gillian. “Where’s that dagger?”

“Exactly where it was last time you asked,” Gillian said, her voice choked. “In the underforge, in the middle of one of the stones under the font. There’s not even a trace of blood on it anymore. I melted the rock and sank the dagger, Vilkas. It’s not going anywhere. Both entrances are sealed, warded, and runed.”

Farkas watched his brother. He knew what Vilkas was thinking. “You don’t think the conjurers outside the city were a coincidence.”

It wasn’t a question.

Vilkas shook his head, propping up on one elbow. “There’s no way. They either traced the dagger…or _her_. Did you say…did she hear something inside that portal? Growling or…?”

Gillian nodded. “She did. We didn’t,” she pointed between herself and Farkas. “But we weren’t listening for it either. She told me she’d heard the same thing on the island. So…”

Vilkas lay back and re-covered his eyes. “I still can’t believe she’s from…another world. That other worlds even _exist_. You’re sure it’s not a realm of Oblivion?”

Gillian huffed. “Well, I can’t prove it, but it doesn’t seem likely. You should see the things in her backpack. There’s a little box with lights and pictures inside it. It plays music. She calls it a phone, and she uses it to talk to people who’re far away. And bottles made of something called plastic – hard as glass, but won’t break. And get this: a lotion that keeps her from getting sunburned.” She touched her own freckled cheeks. “That would be handy. She says magic doesn’t exist in her world. But they have very advanced machines. Like carriages that drive by themselves without horses. Lights made of something called electricity, like lightning.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t sound like any realm of Oblivion I’ve heard of.”

“A world without mages? Sounds fantastic – show me the portal,” Farkas said, laughing at Gillian’s dramatic pout.

“Maybe her world is where all the Dwemer went,” Vilkas mused. “What did they want with her? Why stab her with a dagger? What was that supposed to achieve? You mentioned the conjurers asking if she came from Aetherius or Oblivion…Gods, what were they up to?”

“That’s right. Makes sense. If she didn’t come from Oblivion…Aetherius, or _beyond_ Aetherius, would be the only other option, right?”

Farkas nodded slowly. “I was wondering how she spoke our language. And how she could understand us. But…when dremora come from Oblivion, they speak it. We can understand them. Wouldn’t that mean…”

Gillian shook her head again. “Not necessarily. Look, we have to get her to Paarthurnax. Taking her to see a dragon on her, what, fifth day here seems a bit dramatic, but if the conjurers truly are tracking her, I don’t see any other option. We need to know and take precautions. I don’t trust the College leadership with this secret, not with Ancano still mucking about up there. And Farengar,” she looked over at Vilkas, “you didn’t tell Farengar, did you?”

“No, I _told_ you, it was a personal matter. But I think we need to tell Balgruuf. We owe him that much. Especially if we’re endangering his city by keeping her or that dagger here. The timing of the attack at the farm would have been…before you sealed the dagger. I’m pretty sure. So, let’s see if the conjurers still come. If they do, it’s likely they’re tracking her, right?”

Gillian nodded. “I don’t see how they can track the dagger while it’s sealed inside a stone. But stranger things have happened.” She hopped down from the desk. “I’ll talk to her about seeing Paarthurnax tomorrow. It might be a challenge, especially if I can convince Odahviing to fly us up the mountain,” she said, grinning. “Maybe…hold off telling Balgruuf until we find out more. Just until we get back. Please? There might be no risk, no need to worry them…”

Vilkas nodded and yawned. “Only until tomorrow afternoon.”

Farkas stood up and handed a red bottle to Vilkas. “Here’s another potion. Please take it and get some damn sleep.”

Vilkas laughed quietly. “I will,” he said. “Oh, and Gill…maybe you should take that dagger up to Paarthurnax too. If it’s enchanted, he might be able to sniff out what it does.”

 

* * *

 

 

  
“Oh, it’s _you_ ,” Farengar said, leaning over his enchanter with a sneer. “Do tell me, what can I do to help our _great_ warrior on this fine morning, hm?”

“I tried to see you last night, but you were – “

“Yes, I was out. On important matters. Court Mage matters, which is by definition more important than assisting you…rabble.”

“I don’t remember seeing you so…high and mighty when _we rabble_ guarded the palace during the Battle of Whiterun. I seem to remember you hiding under that very table,” Vilkas said, pointing under the enchanter. “I remember your lovely gold-trimmed robes peeking out and I said to my brother, ‘Farkas, I wonder where-‘”

“Yes, fine. What do you need today? What can I do to help? Please, _please_ let me know so you can leave and I can get back to work,” Farengar said, his deadpan voice catching a bit as he slammed his body down on a chair behind his desk.

“You know what. It’s back. It’s been months, but the voice…it’s _back_.”

Farengar groaned, his shoulders slumping. “I told you…what you say you’re experiencing is impossible. There is just no way a dead woman –“

“I know what I’m hearing,” Vilkas said. “Do you really think I want to be here, talking about this?”

“Couldn’t you be remembering from experience? Playing it over in your mind? You told me what happened, it’s enough to make anyone hear things.”

“It’s not saying what I heard in Falkreath!” Vilkas said in an angry whisper. He walked over to the mage’s desk and leaned over, his palms flat on the black leather surface. “I’ve told you-“

“Maybe you’re remembering _wrong_!” Farengar spat, hammering his fist on his desk. “Has anything manifested? Have the voices made you –“

“Maybe. Maybe they have,” Vilkas said, curling his hands into fists. “I’ve come across…something. A weapon. It…called to me. Got into my head. Made me do things…” Vilkas shivered.

Farengar’s eyes widened, and he leaned forward. “Did you hurt…”

Vilkas shook his head. “No, I didn’t. I was…incapacitated before that could happen.”

“That must have been fun to watch. How many Septims would I give…”

“Yeah, yeah…do you know of weapons that can…speak? Enchant the bearer? Make him do things he doesn't want to?”

Farengar leaned back and steepled his fingers under his chin. “Not that I’m aware. There was that business with one of the children and Mephala, last year, you’ll remember. But it wasn’t the weapon speaking, not technically. After the blade was taken from that room, it stopped its infernal whispering.”

“This dagger was taken from conjurers. It’s about the length of my forearm, ragged hilt. Black with red markings on the blade. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear it was – “

“Sounds like something from the Deadlands, yes,” Farengar said. He smirked at Vilkas’s expression. “Mehrunes Dagon’s realm? Surely even _you_ -“

“Of course I have. It’s just a surprise to hear it out loud. You'd think after the Oblivion Crisis...”

“Oh, Mehrunes Dagon will never stop trying to…annex…Tamriel. He believes it’s his by right, and will keep trying to find a way. But that dagger…do you have it?”

“No, Gillian…hid it. Somewhere I can’t get it.”

“She would. Meddling dragonborn. Well, if you do get your hands on it, I can tell you more. But right now, all I can say is…like sometimes calls to like. You meddled in matters beyond your ken last year, and perhaps you…disturbed something. Some… _darkness_. And if there was some dark power in that dagger, hmmm...” He smirked. “It might have picked you as a weak link, _great warrior._ ”

“For your time and discretion,” Vilkas snarled, tossing a coinpurse on the enchanter. He turned to leave.

“This doesn’t have anything to do with the conjurers who attacked last night, does it? If you have their weapon…”

Vilkas looked over his shoulder. “Gillian’s talking to Paarthurnax about the possibility.” He smiled at the eager look on Farengar’s face. “Whom you’ll never get to meet if you aren’t…nicer to us, _Court Mage_ ,” Vilkas said, and strode from Dragonsreach, his smirk slowly fading as he thought about the voices. The dagger.

What in Oblivion was wrong with him?

* * *

 

 

Lilah watched Madison swing a wooden practice sword at one of the dummies Hannah’d set aside for her beside the porch. Dammit, her kid was cute. She let her eyes wander above the wall to the mountains beyond the city. Snowy and rocky and beautiful. They reminded her a little of Mt. Rainier and the rest of the Cascades, when she’d lived in the Pacific Northwest. 

Olympia, with Jason, back when they'd been a family. Happy, she’d thought, in their little house with their ridiculously tiny backyard. She hadn’t noticed he’d been leaving her for months. Gone a little bit more every day. She’d missed the signs. A late night here, a long phone call in the bathroom there…a dodged kiss – well, that had given her pause, but he’d blamed it on her lipstick. When the axe finally fell…she shouldn’t have been shocked. But…

“Looks like she’s getting the hang of that sword,” Gillian said, walking onto the porch from the training yard. “If you want to learn, I’m betting anyone would be happy to show you the ropes. It’s not everyday we get a whelp from another world.”

Lilah laughed, shaking off the invading gloom. “Aela offered to teach me how to shoot, and I might take her up on that,” she said, turning to Gillian and picking up her goblet. “I’ve made a decision. I don’t know how long it’ll take to find a way home, but until we do, to keep my sanity and not lose it in front of Madison, I’m going to treat this time here as an adventure. I mean, how often do you get to visit another universe, right?” She hoped Gillian didn’t see the goblet shake. “I want to see all the things before I go home.”

Gillian took a seat at the table. “It’s good you say that, because we need to see a rather _big_ thing. Today, in fact. If you’re up for it.”

“You look…apprehensive. What is it?”

“How do you feel about meeting a dragon?”

“Um,” Lilah sputtered, water dribbling down her chin. “A dragon?”

“Yep.”

“Can I ask why? I figured we’d start small. Like, indigenous botany, maybe,” Lilah said, motioning to the garden full of unfamiliar plants growing near the wall.

“This dragon has been alive for thousands of years,” Gillian said, watching Lilah for signs of an impending freakout. “If anyone can puzzle out what’s going on with you, how you came to be here…if there’s a way to get you home, it’s him. His name is Paarthurnax.”

“Um…” Lilah felt her cheeks flush. She wiped her suddenly sweaty hands on her thighs.

“Maybe this will make the decision easier. Those people who held you on that island? They may have a way to track you. Two conjurers attacked the city guards last night outside the wall,” Gillian said, noticing Lilah’s eyes narrow and darken. _Good_. “They either tracked you or tracked that dagger. Can’t be a coincidence. Paarthurnax might-.”

“Ok,” Lilah interrupted, cutting her eyes to Madison. “I’ll do it. What about…”

“We’ll be there and back by this afternoon, and we’re taking that dagger. Maddy can stay with Farkas and Argis here at Jorrvaskr. She _will_ be safe,” Gillian said, covering Lilah’s hands with her own.

Lilah stared at their joined hands for a moment and took a deep breath. “Where is this dragon? I don’t see anywhere in the city a dragon can live. Don’t they usually live in caves surrounded by treasure? Gold and plunder and stuff?”

“Well, not _this_ dragon. And that’s, well…he lives on top of that mountain,” Gillian said, motioning to the highest peak to the southeast.

“I can’t even see the top,” Lilah muttered, getting up and walking to the edge of the porch to get a better look. “You said less than a day…how?”

“Yeah. Ok,” Gillian said, leaning against a post. “Remember I said there’re two dragons in Skyrim? And they’re my friends? Well, one lives on top of that mountain, and he’s extremely old and can’t fly anymore. So he can’t come to us.”

“That’s sad,” Lilah said, frowning. “Sounds sad, anyway.”

“It is. It’s a sad story, and one day I’ll tell it to you. But the other dragon is younger. Strong. He’s called Odahviing. And from time to time, he…takes me places. By flying me,” Gillian said, biting her lip, “on his back.”

“You want me to fly to the top of that mountain?” Lilah flung her arm out. “The mountain _so high_ we can’t even see the top through the clouds? On a dragon? Seriously?" Lilah looked around the training yard, and smiled sheepishly at Madison and other Companions who’d stopped to listen. Well, she _had_ yelled. A bit.

“I know flying is not something you’re familiar with – “

“No, I’m familiar with flying,” Lilah said, wagging her finger. “We fly all the time where I’m from. But not on the back of a dragon. How…how do you not fall off?”

“We hold on.” Gillian pantomimed grabbing with her fists. “He has a bank of spikes on his neck that I sit in the middle of. It’s sort of like a little bucket. You can fit with me. I know it sounds super dangerous. And I wouldn’t take Maddy on a flight, but – “

“No, she’d probably try to run up and down the dragon’s back and engage him in conversation. That kid never sits still,” Lilah mused, shaking her head at her daughter, who was, at that moment, trying to make the practice dummy dance.

“So…” Gillian looked at her, brows raised.

“I’ll do it. I have to. If I can’t keep Maddy safe, I might as well never go home. And like I said, this is an adventure, right?” Lilah was proud her voice only shook a little. “And what’s more adventurous than… _oh my god,_ ” she gasped, leaning on a post for support, “flying on a dragon? When do we leave?”

“Let’s go tell Farkas the plan,” she said, looking Lilah up and down, “and then you’ll need to change clothes. It’s freezing on top of that mountain. We can go to my house – we’re about the same size. After that, I’ll call Odahviing.”

“I suppose I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” Lilah said, stepping down onto the yard.

“Yeah. We've all been in your shoes before, you know. Sort of. Nine years ago, we all thought dragons were just…figures in children’s tales.” Gillian looked into Lilah’s eyes. Curiosity. Resolve. _Good_. “Until they weren’t. And now there’s you. And Madison. What happened to you is supposed to be impossible. Yet, here you are. And your tales of phones and sunscreen and a non-magic world…”

“So you’re saying nothing should surprise me anymore?” Lilah chuckled, seeing Farkas and Argis walk around the corner of Jorrvaskr. She wondered where Vilkas was, what he was up to. He’d pronounced her singing beautiful, last night. And today, Lilah couldn’t get _his_ voice out of her head.

“Let’s not go crazy, now,” Gillian said, noticing Lilah’s flushed cheeks. Well, the idea of flying on a dragon _was_ exhilarating. “I’m betting on at least three surprises before the sun sets.”

 

 

 


	9. Can't Keep My Eyes From the Circling Skies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We learn more about Lilah as Lilah learns more about Gillian and Vilkas. And, Lilah meets both dragons on her fifth day in Whiterun. After today, life is going to get a bit more complicated, for everyone involved.
> 
> Title: lyrics from Learning to Fly, by Pink Floyd

As Lilah and Gillian strolled through the plains behind Jorrvaskr, Lilah basked in heat she hadn’t felt in days. Weeks, maybe. She was surprised to see snowy hills in the distance, but for now, the sun’s warmth oozed through her blood like hot cocoa. She would take what she could get. After five minutes’ walk outside the city walls, Gillian stopped and motioned for Lilah to stay back a step or two. She took a breath, and Shouted something in that same echoing, guttural language she’d used last night to disarm Vilkas. The resulting concussion shook grasses, trees, and even made nearby rocks tremble on its way up to the skies.

“What was that?” Lilah took tentative steps toward Gillian. Nothing happened…

“Dragon speech. Part of being dragonborn. I called Odahviing.” She shaded her eyes and watched the skies for a moment. “It’s the dragon’s name, the Shout, I mean. Od-Ah-Viing. He’ll hear me if he’s in Skyrim. I don’t call him unless something crazy’s going on, and that dragon does enjoy drama, so he’ll be here soon.”

“Oh,” Lilah said, twisting the fabric of her fur-lined tunic in her hands. The new outfit was a great deal warmer. Fur-lined leggings, boots, and a cloak as well. A tiny smile twitched at the corner of her mouth. So, she passed as entertainment for a dragon in this strange, freezing place. Well, at least she was useful.

Silence stretched out a few minutes. “So,” Lilah said, nervous enough for small talk, “how long have you and Argis been together?”

Gillian smiled. “That’s a fun story. There was a mission in another city, Markarth.” She motioned to the west. “It seems like so long ago, but it was only…wow…three months. We averted a possible civil war, and I met Argis. The Jarl assigned him as my housecarl – sort of bodyguard. Anyway, we’ve been married going on two months now.”

“You married your bodyguard? We have mov- ah, plays about that sort of thing,” Lilah said, smiling. And then her jaw dropped. “ _Wait_ , you only knew him for a month before you married him? _Seriously_?”

“That’s not done where you’re from?”

“Sometimes. But the success rate isn’t high. Is that the norm here, or…”

“It is. Keep in mind,” Gillian began, “Whiterun, and most cities in Skyrim are smaller than cities in your world. Less populated. You said you could fit your entire neighborhood within our city walls, yeah? So most of us know each other, or at least know each other’s families. And we have done since childhood. So, it’s not rare for two people to scope out a good match and bet on it.”

Lilah huffed. “But how do you _know_? How do you know Argis isn’t going to start drinking if his job doesn’t work out? Or…leave you if you can’t have kids? That happened to a friend of mine. Or just… _leave_? Can you do that here? Leave the marriage if it doesn’t work out?”

“The marriage doesn’t end, if that’s what you mean,” Gillian said, surprised at her defense of Skyrim’s custom. A custom she found just as absurd not three months ago. “People leave each other. Sure. Things can get bad – Skyrim’s not a paradise. People grow and change. But…Argis is my person, and I’m his. And I think if I wake up and make that decision every morning…to stand by him and stand up for him, well. That’s all I can do. I can’t speak for anyone else.”

Gillian watched Lilah’s eyes grow clouded and distant. “Are you? Ah, married, I mean?”

“No, not anymore. We do have a way to get out,” Lilah said, her mouth twisting into a rueful smile. “Divorce, it’s called. And it’s a good thing, for the most part. My ex cheated. Found someone else,” she explained at Gillian’s questioning look. “Not everyone makes the decision you make every morning. He said I didn’t make him happy anymore. Didn’t make him feel special. Like she did. Hell, maybe he was right.”

“Happy? What does that mean? What are you supposed to do…dance for him? Keep him entertained?” Gillian scoffed. “And what about Madison? What about her happiness?”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Lilah said, a half-smile on her lips. “It always is. Happiness is a big deal where I’m from. Someone told me not too long ago – I was complaining about Jason, about what he’d done – that happiness is a choice. That’s a lot of pressure to maintain a certain emotional state, you know? So I’m not making the right choices...and now I’m _worried_ about being happy, which doesn’t bring on much happiness, ironically.” She shrugged, and bent down to examine a pretty peach-flowering shrub. “What Jason did isn’t surprising. Not happy? Maybe you’re with the wrong person. And attraction…it’s a heady thing. It does feel so… _so_ good.”

“No one can be happy all the time, though,” Gillian said, truly puzzled. “That’s impossible. I wasn’t happy when I was killing dragons. Or fighting in our civil war. Life is painful, sometimes. We do our best here to survive. To help others survive. And if happiness comes along, you’d better bet your ass we grab it as quickly as we can!” She looked over her shoulder, hearing the grasses crumple behind them. “Well, well…speaking of asses.”

Lilah stood up and twirled around as Vilkas walked up to them with long, fast strides, his massive greatsword over one shoulder. What was he afraid of out here? Her smile of greeting faded slowly as he only nodded in return, his lips tight.

“Did you want a ride too? Plenty of room once Odahviing gets here,” Gillian said.

“Can’t. I have to sort out Torvar today. He’s been sobering up and recovering from a bastard of a hangover. Byrne told me he fell asleep during his turn as guard. Drunk. A frost troll was drawn to the campfire, and...” Vilkas cut his eyes toward Lilah. “This is something you will not repeat.”

Lilah nodded, crossing her heart and smiling at their blank expressions. “I won’t, I swear, but if you want me to walk away for a minute I can...”

He shook his head and held his hand out. “Not necessary. _Just_ …” he pinched the bridge of his nose and turned back to Gillian. “Ria, Athis, and Njada have been covering for him. Since their whelp days, every mission... They knew about his drinking. Hell, we _all knew_. I just thought…” he grabbed the back of his neck and sighed. “Why? _Why_ did I think that? That a man could be drunk every night and still do his job, sober, during the day? I mean, we do live in a glorified mead hall. But, I should have seen. I should have noticed. That’s on me.”

Gillian frowned. “It’s on all of us. Kodlak was Harbinger until last year, Vilkas, and we were always gone. You and me and Farkas. When were we supposed to see it?”

“But it’s my responsibility now. A whelp was just torn apart by a frost troll, on my watch. I’m not blaming it on a dead man.” He turned toward Lilah, his face tense. “I-“

Vilkas broke off at a whooshing sound from above. A bright red dragon landed in front of them, stirring up dust clouds where his giant claws hit the ground. The wind from his wings nearly knocked Lilah down, and would have done had Vilkas not been standing behind her.

Lilah was too busy hyperventilating to realize the awkwardness of falling against Vilkas’s chest. Her body shook. Not with fear so much as shock. She’d thought she’d been prepared to confront a dragon. _An actual dragon_. But she was wrong. It was as large as some of the tyrannosaur skeletons she’d seen. Larger, even. And the wings… She backed up a few steps as Gillian ran forward to greet him. They were going to ride on _that_?

She jumped as Vilkas squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t worry, that’s everyone’s reaction their first time. It’s not limited to people from other worlds,” he said, lowering his voice. “I wanted to apologize for last night. I tried to catch you back in Jorrvaskr, but…”

She turned around, her heart thudding. Had he been standing this close the whole time? Her nose nearly bumped his chin. She stepped back. “Um, for what?”

Vilkas’s eyes flew wide. Had he damaged her memory? “For attacking you with a dagger? Putting your life in danger? And your daughter’s? Please tell me you remember that.”

“Oh…yeah. Sorry, of course I…it’s just, um… _dragon_ ,” she stumbled over her words, her face burning. “Look, you weren’t yourself. This is all new to me, but…what you did…” she swallowed, clapping her hand to her mouth. Why did she have to laugh at inappropriate moments? “I _saw_ it. You were going to turn that knife on _yourself_. Sink it into your side or…your leg rather than hurt me. That was…I’ve never seen anything like that. Of course,” she said, “I’ve _literally_ never seen _anything_ like that. But…honestly, you did nothing to apologize for.”

Vilkas frowned. He remembered the fear in her eyes. The anger. The desperation to keep her daughter from danger. Did she not? “I kept that dagger when I should have locked it away. Yes, I made the best of a bad situation, but the situation was no one’s fault but my own.”

“You take a lot on yourself,” Lilah said, and bit her lip, wishing she could take it back. Why did she say that? So stupid...

“Look around you,” he said, his eyes shuttered and the muscles of his jaw tense. “Think about how we found you. This isn’t…it _is_ on me. _All_ of it. _My_ responsibility, _my_ duty. And obviously I’ve been doing a _shit_ job of that so far.”

Lilah’s stomach lurched. She wiped angry tears from her eyes, but stayed silent as he turned away.

Gillian walked back toward them. “Vilkas, before we go…can you sense… _anything_? Anything at all?”

Vilkas looked puzzled. “Oh,” he said. “The…” he closed his eyes and searched for the dagger, but felt nothing. No darkness. No voices.

“No, nothing.” He sighed, and his body visibly unclenched. Lilah couldn’t imagine what being under the spell of an object would feel like. She hoped never to find out.

“Well, hopefully it’s been neutralized.” Gillian looked just as relieved. “Come on,” she said, motioning to the two of them. “Say hello. You too, Vilkas. Be polite.”

Odahviing inclined his head toward Lilah as she stopped a few feet away from his snout. “Greetings. I am Odahviing. It is good that we meet. Although,” he craned his neck forward and…sniffed. “You have the scent of Aetherius about you. Strange.” He looked at Gillian and raised his brow. “Your judgment is excellent! My brother will be fascinated with this _joor_ , if _joor_ she is. I assume that is what you will ask?”

“We need to know. She could be in danger, and the rest of us could be, too. We know she’s not from here, but _where_ she came from – and how – could make a big difference. To a lot of people.” She turned to Lilah. "By the way, _joor_ means 'mortal.'"

Odahviing nodded and rumbled in his throat. “And greetings to you, Harbinger, still without a long gray beard, I see. And short hair. What kind of Nord wears his hair like that? What a disgrace to your forbears you must be!”

Same old song and dance, Vilkas thought. Usually he laughed off the ancient dragon’s ribbing, but today, barbs highlighting his inexperience hit home. “I have a few grays, I’m getting there. You don’t get to forty around here without acquiring a few.”

Lilah widened her eyes for a moment. He was younger... She’d pegged him for her own forty-two. But they did have more sun exposure here. And those _scars_...before she could stop herself, her mind wondered how scarred the rest of his body might be. She felt an embarrassing warmth spread through her chest.

“You girls have fun,” Vilkas said, excusing himself and nodding at Odahviing before stomping back to the city gates.

“You are prepared?” Odahviing said.

“Not remotely,” Lilah said, closing her eyes. She took a deep breath and thought of Maddy swimming at her grandparents’ house. Maddy having a tea party with her playgroup. Maddy riding on Jason’s shoulders. “But I’m doing it anyway.”

 

* * *

 

  
  
The takeoff was rough, and Lilah figured she’d swallowed at least one bug. But once they reached cruising altitude, she whooped and grinned like an idiot. “This is amazing!”

Gillian laughed as she watched Lilah revel in her first flight. “There’s nothing like it,” she yelled, spitting hair out of her mouth as a gust of wind whooshed past. “I envy full-blooded dovah their wings. More than I should!”

Lilah resisted the urge to lift her hands up and scream into the wind. She had a sudden mental picture of herself riding Odahviing like Bastian on Falkor the Luck Dragon, at the end of The Neverending Story. Only instead of chasing down pre-teen bullies, she imagined hunting down the monsters who’d held her captive. Did Odahviing breathe fire? Ice spikes? Acid? She closed her eyes and smiled. _All would suffice_.

Too soon, Lilah thought, they were circling a mountain peak eclipsed by a whirling blizzard. She craned her neck as they spiraled. The storm surrounded the mountain. “How do we get past that?”

Just then, Odahviing Shouted, and the wind and snow cleared away, revealing a snowy mountain aerie, glistening in the sun.

Gillian hopped off Odahviing’s back as they glided to a smooth landing, and extended a hand to Lilah. She stumbled a bit while regaining her footing, then ran up to Odahviing’s great spiky head. “Thank you! That was more fun than I thought,” she said, blanching as he narrowed his eyes. “Not that you’re ah…a _ride_ or anything. I didn’t mean to…”

He stared at her a moment before inclining his head. “If I can help Dovahkiin stay safe, it is good, little _tovitaan_ ,” he said, and lifted his wings. As he ascended, he called out something Lilah didn’t understand before flying away through snowy skies.

Gillian motioned to Lilah with a nod of her head toward a high, curved wall, crumbled and weathered. She looked around, shivering. Gillian had been right about the change of clothes. She could see her own breath, and her eyes teared up in the bitter cold. She pulled her hood up, its fur trim tickling her cheeks. “What did he say just then?”

“He told his brother he’d be back later, and bring a mammoth. Dragon speech always sounds so much more impressive than its translation,” Gillian said, smirking and shading her eyes as she raised her voice and looked to the top of the wall. “Good morning, Paarthurnax.”

Lilah looked up, and her jaw dropped as a golden dragon, at least three times larger than Odahviing, peered down at them from his perch.

“ _Drem Yol Lok_ , Dovahkiin,” the dragon said, but his eyes, clear and golden in his craggy face, were riveted on Lilah. He groaned and lifted his wings.

They were tattered and shredded, Lilah noticed, remembering the exhilaration of her first dragon flight. Her heart twisted in her chest as she imagined the pain of a winged creature no longer able to fly.

He let himself fall from his perch and limped toward her.

She stepped back, almost involuntarily. Gillian placed a steadying hand on her back. She took a deep breath and walked forward, her boots crunching in the snow. “Hello, P-Paarthurnax. My name’s Lilah. I'm-“

“You are not from this world. You smell…” he sniffed about two feet away from her. His eyes widened. “You smell of Aetherius.”

Gillian sighed, and some of the tension she’d been hiding rolled from her shoulders. “You sure? You don’t smell Oblivion? Oh, thank the Divines,” she said, turning to Lilah, who was beginning to be offput by all the sniffing. “I’ll explain all this later, I swear.”

“Not a whiff,” he confirmed, sniffing again. “However this _joor_ came to Skyrim, it wasn’t through any of those planes. Hmmm…” he said, resting his head in the snow. “This is…” he stared at her through slitted eyes.

“Dovahkiin,” he rumbled. “Aura Whisper, if you please.”

Gillian Shouted. And gasped. “Your life force, it’s…” She turned to Paarthurnax, shaking her head and reaching her hand out toward Lilah. “Daedra, Aedra, immortals…I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“Describe what you see, Dovahkiin.”

“As you know, your aura is pink and swirls slowly as you move. I can see specks of life in the air – pink and swirly. Two of the Greybeards are pacing in the courtyard below. Theirs are the same,” Gillian said, holding her own hand in front of her face. “And mine.”

Lilah raised her brows. What were they seeing? Auras? Those weren’t _real_ – she knew that. But then again, dragons weren’t real either. She shrugged and laughed. “So, what do I look like?”

Gillian frowned and paced, circling Lilah as she considered what to say. “Your aura is white. And it’s fuzzy, like it’s moving fast. And it moves in a different direction than ours does. You’re like us…but _unlike_ us. I don’t know…what does this mean?”

Lilah looked from Paarthurnax to Gillian and back. Were they serious? She decided to rein in her skepticism in the presence of a dragon – especially an ancient one. “I suppose since I am from another universe, that makes sense, right?”

Paarthurnax rumbled his assent as he nodded. “Indeed. But the implications are not so simple. Everyone in Skyrim possesses energy we call ‘magicka,’ the raw ability to manipulate nature through use of will. Men and mer focus magicka through spells. _Dovah_ ,” he paused and inclined his head toward Gillian, “use our voices. Our _Thu’um_. What the Dovahkiin calls Shouts.”

Gillian grinned at Paarthurnax. “This purist has never approved of my Nord-izing the dragon tongue.”

“I have become accustomed to it over the years,” he said. “Our magicka resonates. We see it in our auras. We feel it in our heartbeats, in the rise and fall of our chests. The way the wind whispers over our skin.”

Lilah shivered as a chill washed over her. It had nothing to do with the cold, and everything to do with Paarthurnax’s words. She’d been confronted with magic in Skyrim – she shouldn’t be skeptical, still. She took another deep breath as he continued.

“We feel it when we sit silently and connect with the bare ground. It is a music that, whether we listen or not, connects every living being with the Divines. Your magicka…therefore your aura…resonates at a different speed. With a different…melody. A rhythm that is just slightly…uneven, compared to our own.”

Gillian nodded. “It even fades faster. I can’t see yours anymore, Lilah. But I can see everything else still. Pink as primroses.”

“Hmmm…” Paarthurnax pondered for a moment. “May I, to use my brother’s words, ‘little _tovitaan_ ,’ perform a small experiment? Honesty – it will be uncomfortable, but it will not harm you.”

“Um, what’s a _tovitaan_?” Lilah turned to Gillian, swallowing. “I'm not sure…”

“ _Dovahzul_ , dragon speech. The word means someone who is foreign.”

Lilah’s heart beat faster. She’d already been experimented on in Skyrim, and wasn’t looking forward to a repeat performance.

Gillian studied Lilah, and noticed her wide eyes, shallow breaths, and shaking hands. She glared at Paarthurnax. “I’ve explained to you what she’s gone through already…is this...?”

“Nothing like that,” Paarthurnax said, a small stream of smoke issuing through his nostrils. “I would not hurt a friend of Dovahkiin out of sheer _curiosity_!”

Lilah thought he sounded insulted. She tried to breathe. “If it'll help, and won't harm me, I consent.”

“Are you sure?” Gillian gently grabbed her wrist and turned her around. “We can find another way.”

Lilah nodded, shakily turning back toward Paarthurnax. She slowly nodded again, and closed her eyes.

Paarthurnax Shouted.

Gillian gasped as a thick sheet of ice covered Lilah’s body, conforming to her shape. “Ice Form? You used Ice Form on her? _Why_???”

“Just wait,” the dragon said, watching the Lilah-shaped statue and resting his head on the snow once more.

They didn’t have to wait long. Not even a minute passed before Gillian heard sizzling and bubbling. Ten seconds later, nothing remained of the icy shell.

Gillian skipped over, wrapping her arms around Lilah, expecting her to be freezing. On the contrary, her furs were warm and dry. Her face red and flushed. Only her eyes, wide and panicked, hinted that she had recently been encased in magical ice.

“Ok, that was weird. What _was_ that? Why would you _do_ that? How did…did _you_ melt that ice? How is she warm?” Gillian fired questions at Paarthurnax as the old dragon raised slowly up on his haunches and inclined his head.

“I did nothing,” he said, watching Lilah. “ _You_ melted that ice. Just like I knew you would. You were never in any harm.”

“I just…panicked,” Lilah said, gasping for breath. “All I could see was ice, I couldn’t breathe. I panicked. I didn’t _do_ _anything_. I can’t…”

“I apologize for alarming you. Dovahkiin and I would not have allowed you to come to harm,” he said, relaxing once more into the drifts. “Your will, your resonance, dissipated the effects of the _Thu’um_. Tore it apart. The implications, as I said, are not so simple. First, if you wish to learn the magical arts while in Skyrim, I do not believe spells will be of use to you. That may not be at the forefront of your mind, however.”

“What do you mean… _magic isn’t real_. People can’t melt ice with their minds. I did _nothing_!”

“Maybe in your world, your time. But here, _yes you did_. The fact that your will melted that ice is not in doubt. The question is… _how_? Not a spell. You wield no _Thu’um_. The mechanics of it all must be discovered over time. But…” he paused. “This sheds light on how you came to be in Skyrim.”

Lilah was shaking her head, prepared to argue that _no_ , she wasn’t magical. Of _course_ she couldn’t do spells; the whole thing was ludicrous. But how she came to be here…yes, this was why she’d braved the dragon flight in the first damn place. She listened.

“Your magicka, your aura,” Paarthurnax continued, ignoring Lilah’s eye-roll, “resonates at a different frequency than that of this world. It renders our spells and _Thu’ums_ unstable. You can break apart our spells with a thought, so it seems. It stands to reason: you can disrupt our portals, as well.”

“But how,” Gillian frowned, “can she disrupt a portal from outside our world?”

“How the universe – universes, now, apparently – keep spinning is a mystery, even to me. Though I am immortal, I am not Divine. But…I know there are places in the world. Places where the different planes breathe. Oblivion, Aetherius… walls between dimensions become thin, perforated. And then reform. If you,” he looked at Lilah, “happened upon a place like that, and touched our world, even for a second….”

Lilah’s mouth fell open, and she turned to Gillian. “Where Maddy and I fell! That…hollow in the ground. We fell in it, and next thing I knew...could that have been?”

Gillian nodded, her face weary. “There was a portal on the other side. Her weird resonance screwed it up. It brought her here. _Gods_.”

Lilah looked between Gillian and Paarthurnax, a vague sense of dread forming in her chest. “What? What does that mean?”

Gillian looked at Paarthurnax, who slowly nodded. “It means getting you home will be harder than we hoped.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *true story: my husband and I married a month after we met. It would have been two weeks, but we couldn't get plane tickets to visit our families in that short notice, so we had to wait. :)


	10. Dream a Little Dream of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilah and Gillian uncover a clue to Lilah's magical ability. Although Vilkas is drawn to Lilah like a moth to a flame, he doesn't understand why. And after the night he's about to have, he may be even more wary.
> 
> Title: lyrics from Dream a Little Dream of Me, sung by Ella Fitzgerald

“Can you still see Maddy?” Lilah called to Gillian from the alchemy lab in the back room of Breezehome, a mortar full of dried mushrooms and butterfly wings clenched in her hands. Aela was right – she needed to keep busy, and creating potions was one of the few things she could do to help. And to keep sane, since she was still reeling after Paarthurnax’s bombshell: they might never find another portal home from Skyrim.

Gillian had tried teaching Lilah spells, just in case Paarthurnax was wrong about her ability to manipulate magicka that way, but it was no use. Lilah thought it felt like trying to get light from a lamp with a broken switch. The power was there, flowing through her blood like electricity through a wire. She’d become aware of it, after days of practicing. The old dragon had been right.

But potions – Lilah was a natural. It might be, she guessed, because of all those chemistry classes in college. Maybe working with solutions and distillates and residues and precipitates was like riding a bicycle. After twenty years.

Like the lamp analogy, it made little sense to Gillian, but it did inspire hope. It was one thing to use the equipment properly. Even Farkas could heat ingredients in a calcinator or light a fire under an alembic. But, if there wasn’t the requisite magicka and innate talent, the potion would be a dud. Somehow, Lilah made it happen, by herself. But how?

“Yes, she’s right outside. She and Braith and Lucia – those are Amren and Saffir’s daughters, you met them yesterday – they’re making flower chains. Funny, Braith picks on just about everyone here, but she’s sweet to Maddy. Maybe because she’s so young?”

“Maybe,” Lilah gave the mortar a last quick jab and dumped the contents into an alembic along with some ale. Wheat was the other ingredient listed in the spotted and tattered recipe nailed to the wall, but Gillian produced a better health potion using ale as a solvent, and leaving the wheat out. She thought it could be the juniper in the ale. An ingredient for health regeneration might make the potion work faster. In any case, it was a quick substitution. Lilah lit the fire and walked over to watch the kids.

“Maddy’s always gotten along with older kids,” she mused, running her hands over a golden bow mounted on the wall. “Not sure why. Maybe you’re right, and they want to mommy her, and she likes it.”

“So,” Gillian asked, watching Lilah pull at her shoulders, “how are the archery lessons coming?”

“Ok. I’m terrible, and weak. I’ve barely been able to draw even the beginner’s bow, but Aela said it wasn’t too bad for someone who’s never picked up any weapon at all. Well, other than a jackknife. There’s just not much use for archery where I’m from, you know? So I don’t use those muscles,” she said, bending from side to side. “Between that, swordplay, and the potion table, my back is killing me.”

“You’ll get it. All of it. And I heard you’re braving the abrasive Njada for sword and shield practice?”

“Yeah, just the basics. It’s not like I’m training to join the squad. She agreed to teach Madison, too. She’s surprisingly patient.”

“Njada’s only really a bitch to people who aren’t pulling their weight or aren’t working as hard as possible. You and Maddy…as I said the first day we met, I’d be a mewling mess in your shoes,” she said, turning back to the window. “You’re making this look easy. Njada respects that, even if she’s a little gruff about it.”

“Well, she’s a pretty good teacher. Again, there’s lots of pain. I wasn’t exactly in shape back in…back home. Honestly, we don’t have to be,” she said, walking back to check on her potion. It was still distilling. “So, tell me about this summer festival. Farkas mentioned it’s some time next week?”

“First day of summer, yeah. Lots of food. Lots of ale and mead. Flowers and wreaths everywhere. Oh, big bonfire. It’s fun. There’re swordfighting and archery tournaments, and everyone just plays the whole day. And singing, lots of singing – you’ll like that.” Gillian winked, remembering her after-hours serenade last week.

Lilah blushed. “Anything I can help with? Maddy too, she loves to help out.”

“Arcadia and Fralia, that’s Eorlund’s wife, they make little sachets to sell with the flowers you’ve been picking and drying. Legend is, if you put one under your pillow that night, you’ll dream of the person you’ll spend the rest of your life with. On a related note,” she said, “you need a summer dress to wear. Even the jarl comes down from his perch for the day; you can’t go in a borrowed tunic. Maddy too.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers. It’s not like I can access my bank account here.”

“I’m assuming that’s some form of money. Well, no, but you’ve been working your ass off for the past week. And if you spend the next couple of days making potions for me and Arcadia and helping sew sachets, you’ll more than pay for a few outfits.”

“Are there dresses anywhere in Skyrim? I haven’t seen women wearing anything but tunics and leggings. And…lots and lots of armor.”

“There are. You just have to know where to go,” Gillian said, and lit up like a candle. “Hey! We should go to Solitude! They have a great shop. I don’t use my Dovahkiin status often, but I will to get after-hours appointments with a dressmaker. While we're on the topic, come upstairs. There’s something you might like to see.”

After setting the potions aside to cool, Lilah went up the temporary ladder to Gillian and Argis’s bedroom. The green-quilted bed took up most of the room, and it was, Lilah noticed, the only room in the house not decorated with assorted weaponry. Instead, tapestries and colorful quilts covered the walls. Gillian bent over a large chest in the corner.

“Here, my favorite dress,” she said, pulling a fluffy mass of red and gold silk out and handing it to Lilah. “I’m sure it’s not fashion like you’re used to, but it sure is pretty.”

Lilah held the dress at arms-length, and whistled. Shimmering panels of gold, dark red, and copper silk drifted under a bodice constructed of…”wow, what is this on the top?”

“Dragon scales, if you can believe it. Eorlund does amazing things with most materials, but with dragon scale? He’s an artist. Here, try it on.”

Lilah hesitated, then giggled and lay the dress carefully on the bed, wrestling out of her tunic and leggings.

Gillian helped her into the dress and pulled the gold chains to fasten at the neck, waist, and across the back. “It doesn’t quite meet in the back. About a half an inch…”

“I _am_ a bit softer than you are.”

“Probably not. I’ve not done much, physically, since Yuletide. I told the twins I was done with missions after Markarth, and then I met Argis, and it was sweetrolls and sex every day. No time for training. So, I might not fit that dress anymore either. And you know what? It’s totally worth it.”

Lilah laughed. “I’ve exercised more since coming here than ever before. Y’all lead active lives. This dress…you’re right. It’s gorgeous. Thank you for letting me try it on.”

“You’ll be trying on all the things, because we’re going to Solitude. Tomorrow. You and me and Maddy. Probably Ria. Argis’ll come too, since Vilkas will insist that either he or Farkas go with us.”

Lilah’s stomach flip-flopped at Vilkas’s name. She paused with the dress halfway down her hips. “He...wouldn’t come, would he?”

Gillian smiled. “No, he’ll to be too busy arranging things for the festival, and dealing with Torvar, and getting back into training and supervision, since he thinks everything is on his shoulders now. Silly man. We’re adults, all of us. Our bad choices aren’t on him.”

“He just wants to prevent unnecessary death. As a fellow living person, I salute that endeavor.”

“Yes, I do too. I just wish,” Gillian mused, folding the silk dress back into its trunk, “he didn’t take things so personally. Work is good. Duty’s good. But guilt? That’ll eat you up until there’s nothing left. I’d hate for that to happen to such a good man.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“It’s late. Everyone’s in bed. You shouldn’t be out here alone,” Vilkas said, his soft boots quiet on the cobblestones.

Lilah whirled around in the overlook behind the training yard, her heart pounding. “No, because there’s some creeper running around scaring women, right? God, Vilkas. Wear a bell or something.”

“A creeper?” He looked around for a moment and groaned. She was talking about him. “Fair point. But still, you shouldn’t be out here. We still don’t know what those mages wanted from you, or if they can still find you, somehow.”

“But I thought Paarthurnax studied that dagger and said –“

“Yeah, they can’t track your blood without it,” he said, walking into the overlook to stand beside her. “But he also said he had to talk to Akatosh about why the mages were using it on you, that he had no idea. Now, if an ancient dragon has to talk to a god about current events, you can bet the answer is going to be scary. So…why are you out here alone?”

“I still can’t believe gods in your world are real. Blessings and magical healing… _real_. Crazy.”

Vilkas sighed and leaned against the stone wall. He’d seen her through the window on his way to bed, and found himself walking outside instead of downstairs. It was late; he should lead her back inside… “You don’t have gods where you come from?”

“No one really knows. Lots of people believe in some god or other. Some swear they have proof; some have faith. I never believed. But, we didn’t have shrines that would heal our cuts and bruises if we touched them either, so…it’s just a lot to take in.”

Vilkas rolled his eyes. Philosophy. “So that’s why you’re out here? Alone, where anyone could come by and grab you? You can’t think inside?”

“You, sir, are tenacious. I’m thinking about things I’d be better off just…leaving alone. And watching torchbugs flying around,” she said, motioning to soft, yellow lights dancing in the field. “Can’t watch those inside. We have torchbugs back home, you know? We call them lightning bugs, though. Or fireflies.”

“I’m sorry,” Vilkas said after a moment. “About finding you a way home. We’ll still try; we’ll-“

Lilah wiped a tear away. “I’m fine. I’m…fine. I’ve had lots of sketchy moments over the past few days, but I’m fine. And even if we never get to go home, life will go on and I’ll eventually be…fine.”

“Not that I know a lot about it,” he said, watching her out of the corner of his eye, “but in my experience, people who say they’ll be fine that many times don’t think they will be. And that’s fine-“

“You were just saying?” Lilah smiled. She stretched her arms over the wall and sighed as some of the tension rippled out of her sore muscles.

“Bad choice of words, I admit. But, no one expects you to act like nothing happened. Being pulled out of your world into one that’s…completely different? That’s kind of a big deal. You’re allowed to be upset.”

“Gillian said the same thing. And thank you, I’ll never be able to thank you enough for the help y’all have been. Truly, it’s -” Lilah swallowed and wiped her eyes again. “It’s just…my mom and dad. Maddy’s grandparents. Maddy’s father. They have to think we’re dead. Or lost, or kidnapped. Being hurt or something worse. I don’t know what’s worse, but…worse. I know if I lost Maddy, and had to think of all the things that could…I’d rather die, and that’s the truth. This is just going to kill them, and… _there_.” She smacked her hand on the wall. “I’ve let myself think about it too long already. If I keep this up, I’ll never get out of bed again.”

“Well, you can’t do that. Someone else will need your room, eventually.”

Lilah pushed off her elbows and looked up, her eyes shining. “Vilkas. Did you just make a joke?”

“I know it does no good to dwell on things.” Vilkas laughed at Lilah’s pointed look. “I may need to take my own advice once in a while.”

“There’s a saying in our world,” Lilah said, watching a hawk fly overhead, its silhouette sharp in the moonlight. “I can’t remember who said it or even what the right words are. But…it’s something like ‘if you stare into the abyss long enough, the abyss stares back.’”

“That,” he said with a shudder, “sounds truly disturbing. What does it mean?”

Lilah shrugged. “People take different things from it. I think,” she said, narrowing her eyes and looking up at the stars, “if you concentrate too much on your troubles, your troubles get bigger and stronger and scarier. If you keep thinking about your fears, you let your fears control you. Something like that.”

“Well, some worries and fears are bigger than others. It’s hard to look away.”

“Yes, well, as you say, I, too, should learn to take my own advice.” Lilah watched his jaw clench as he stared out into the darkness. She shivered in the cold night air, and wondered what his abyss looked like.

 

* * *

 

 

  
In the early morning darkness, just before dawn, Vilkas sank into a dream.

_He and Lilah stood, fully clothed, in the bathing pool downstairs. She watched him with heavy-lidded eyes and a crooked smile on her rosy lips. Were they always that red? The pool whirled and bubbled, sending warm steam throughout the cavern._

_He walked toward her, looking down and wondering why he was bathing in his armor. Lilah unlaced her tunic and slowly let it fall from her shoulders, revealing milky white skin. It fell into the pool and drifted with the current. He ran his fingers down her arm. Soft to the touch._

_She stepped into his arms and raised a hand to caress his cheek. Her other hand slid round the back of his neck and slowly pulled his head down, his lips almost touching hers._

_“Vilkas,” she whispered. Her lips slid along his jaw, up to his ear. He could hear the smile in her voice. “What is life’s greatest illusion?”_

_He staggered back, pushing her away. Bloody tears rolled down her cheeks and splashed into the pool. A too-wide smile slithered across her face as she walked toward him, her body covered in blood. Turning to run, he tripped over a rocky outcropping and fell into the red water. On his hands, he scuttled backwards as she lunged, her eyes black. Her fangs sharp and white in her bloody mouth._

He awoke, his chest heaving, sweat running down his back. He shook his head against his pillow, shutting his eyes against words boiling up from somewhere deep inside him, desperate to be spoken. It was just a dream. He sat up and covered his head with his hands and breathed deeply, his head on his knees. It was just a dream. The words were just a…projection. Faulty memory, just like Farengar said.

Only…he knew better. Felt it in his bones. Just as he knew how to answer the riddle that... garish caricature of Lilah’d asked him in his nightmare. He swallowed, and nearly gagged.

“Innocence, my brother,” he whispered into the abyss.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gillian wore her dragonscale dress in Sun on Stone, chapter 9. If you'd like to read more about it, and how it was made, that chapter describes it in more detail.


	11. I've Read This Script and the Costume Fits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilah goes to Solitude, accompanied by several Companions, and begins to find answers to some of her questions. Argis and Gillian find closure, and Vilkas comes forward with just enough information to confuse Gillian. Unfortunately, Vilkas will end up confusing a lot of people before this is all over. 
> 
> Title: from Cleopatra, by the Lumineers.

Gillian cursed as she spilled hot, delicious, life-giving coffee all over her new book. She narrowed her eyes. Everyone who knew her well enough to bang on her door at this time of morning also knew she was not to be disturbed before her first cup. Unless this was an emergency, someone owed her big time, she thought, pulling a tunic over her camisole as she stalked around the firepit, tripping over Argis’s boots on the way. “Dammit! This better be good!”

She opened the door and blinked into a chilly, bright blue morning. Vilkas stormed in. Looking... “Are you all right, Vilkas? You’re wearing two different boots.”

“I’m fine,” he said, looking down at his feet. He groaned. Sure enough, one boot was dirty, patched leather, and the other a dressy black suede. “Just in a hurry. Where’s Argis? Why are you taking her to Solitude?”

Gillian thought for a moment; something about Solitude sounded familiar. But it was still very early, and thanks to Vilkas, she hadn’t had her coff- “Yes! We’re leaving for Solitude in a couple of hours. Did she tell you? Well, she needs –“

“She said you’re taking her dress shopping. For Summer Day. Really? Belethor’s selection isn’t great, but it would do. And without a dangerous trip north, out of the hold.”

Gillian mopped coffee off her table and book in silence. She might be able to save most of the book, but the details of how one evil mage had escaped a volcano were lost forever. “You’re crazy if you think Belethor’s stock will do. I don’t even like to talk to that man. He thinks just because we’re Bretons, we should be buddies. No, thank you. He’s creepy. And Argis is out gathering more flowers for the festival. They can dry while we’re gone.”

“Was that my fault?” Vilkas nodded toward the mess. “I’m sorry. I’m just…” He sighed and sat down next to the firepit. “Come on. Why are you really taking her up there?”

She walked back to the kitchen and poured another cup of coffee from her carafe. Holding it in both hands and savoring the warmth, she sat down next to Vilkas. “We both know she’s never going home.”

He scratched his beard. “I don’t know. It looks bad, sure, but –“

“Yes, _but_. Finding another thin spot between our worlds is like, what…like there’s an invisible amulet hidden somewhere in Skyrim. And oh, it moves from place to place. Find it,” she took a sip. “Sorry, it’s not going to be found.”

Vilkas picked up the wet book and shook the pages a little. He got up and paced around, waving it over the firepit. “So?”

“ _So_? She’s stuck here. She needs to start making plans for the rest of her life. I’m going to get her an introduction at the Bards’ College.” Vilkas scowled. She raised her brows. “What?”

“A bard? She’s got a nice voice, sure, but…”

“She’s been practicing lute with Farkas. He says she’s got talent.”

“Can’t…can’t she do something in Whiterun?” He put the book back on the table and paced around the firepit. “Sing in Whiterun if that’s what she wants? Solitude is just…”

So far away? Gillian thought so, but she had to play it cool. “Vilkas, that woman isn’t a fighter. And I doubt she’s a farmer. What’s she going to do here? Do you want to find some random man for her to marry?” Gillian tried not to smile at Vilkas’s deepening scowl. “She told me courtships in her world last for years. And think of what she’s been through. Should we just introduce her to some guy and say ‘here you go. Have sex with this one, please. This is your life now.’”

It was Vilkas’s turn to be silent. He stomped over to the window, tripping over Argis’s boots and kicking them under a chair. Gillian watched him stew, and wondered if he even knew what he was mad about. She guessed not, but she’d never seen Vilkas look at a woman the way he looked at Lilah. Especially when she sang for them. Farkas requested a song every evening after dinner, and he was boisterous and fulsome in his appreciation. But Vilkas watched her in intense silence, like a blind man seeing the sun rise for the first time. She saw it. She knew Farkas saw it. But Vilkas needed time to believe his own senses.

“No. That woman,” she motioned toward Jorrvaskr, “needs something to do. She’s not a fighter and never will be, no matter how long she studies under Aela and Njada. She might get her magicka under control, but the College won’t accept her, and frankly, I’d be terrified to make that introduction. She’s a mother, and needs to provide for her child. The Bards’ College will take her, I guarantee it,” she said, her voice softening as Vilkas tapped the glass with his fist. “But also, she truly does need some clothes. I want to help her. So…we’ll take Ria and Argis with us. Between the three of us, we can keep them safe. And I can always call Odahviing. Maybe even Durnehviir, although he’d just fly around aimlessly. But he might scare any mage stupid enough to mess with us.”

“Where will you stay?”

“Proudspire. They’re always trying to get me to buy it, so I’ll stay in it a couple of nights and see. We’ll be safe, Vilkas. She will be safe,” she said, looking into his eyes. They seemed so…frantic. What else was going on?

“I’m worried about that. I’m also worried about people being safe _around_ her.” He held up his hands to forestall her protests. “It’s just a feeling I’ve been having lately. That she’s not what she seems. Or that someone is using her for…something. Just watch her. Ok?”

“You think Lilah is, what, some sort of assassin? Or she’s lying to us? Really? What’s happened?” Vilkas could be an ass at times, and a worrywart. But manufacturing a crisis without evidence was not in his nature.

“No. I don’t know. I don’t want to get into it now. Please, just trust me on this. I could be wrong, but if I’m right, there are lives at stake,” he said, and paused. “Take Nina, too. Another mage, especially one with conjuration expertise, might come in handy.”

“Alright. We will. And we’ll take every precaution,” she said, getting up with Vilkas and walking to the door. “Oh, and Vilkas?”

“Yeah?”

“You might want to spruce up your wardrobe for Summer Day too. Can’t hurt,” she said with a smirk. He didn’t smile back. Gillian’s stomach plunged to her feet. Something was definitely wrong.

 

* * *

 

 

Between Argis, Gillian, Lilah, Ria, and Nina, they managed to keep Madison from jumping out of the wagon every time she saw a fox. Or a rabbit. Or, once, a “kitty.” The kitty was, of course, a fully-grown sabre cat, but the little girl crooned over it like it was a fuzzy tabby. Gillian made a note to avoid Khajiit caravans on the way to Solitude. Maddy calmed down after the first hour, and settled at the back of the wagon, tugging on her mom’s dress when she noticed pretty flowers and funny-shaped clouds in the pale blue sky.

Lilah was still a little shy around Nina. She couldn’t get her head around the unfamiliar red eyes, for one. But that was a minor thing, she’d realized after some reflection. Nina’d been the one to find her on that conjurer’s table. To cover her nakedness and begin to heal her wounds. Lilah wasn't comfortable with vulnerability, and Nina’d seen her at her most vulnerable. But that wasn’t her fault, Lilah thought, and summoned her courage. “Nina,” she said, clearing her throat, “I haven’t said anything, with everything going on. But, thank you. For helping rescue me and Maddy. And for being so kind, giving me your cloak. I just wanted to make sure you knew how much I appreciate it.” Lilah sighed as she felt her stomach unclench a little.

Nina smiled. She’d been waiting for a chance to talk to Lilah, to find out more about her world and how she was fitting into this one. But there hadn’t been time. After Vilkas’s dagger attack, all the Companions had ramped up their efforts to find out what the conjurers had been up to on that island, and Lilah’d been busy trying to coax her magicka and find a way home. Nina had jumped at the opportunity to accompany them all the way to Solitude. “I’m glad I could help. Honestly, that was the most scared I’ve ever been. For me, for you… I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Me neither, believe me.” Lilah shivered and changed the subject. “I was wondering… I’m guessing you heard about my little problem. How does it feel to you when you cast spells? What does it feel like to release your magicka? I’m just trying to figure out what I’m supposed to be doing to make it work. I’ve asked Gillian, but maybe it’s different for different people.”

“Good thought. For me, it feels like lifting something heavy. Like I’m doing work, expending energy. It feels good. I get tired out if I use too much, but then I get this rush of…energy? I don’t know. Just a really good feeling, down to my bones.”

Lilah tapped her lips, considering. “Endorphins, sounds like.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Endorphins. It’s a…well, it’s hard to explain. But in my world, it’s something your body produces that causes a feeling of euphoria when you use a lot of energy. Makes sense,” she said, frowning.

“Do you think you’re getting close? Do you ever feel anything like that?”

“No. The only thing I can do, magic-wise, is make potions. And even that I’m not so sure is me. Gillian says it is-“

“Oh, it is,” Nina said. “You can’t make a potion without magicka and talent. Everyone at the College would tell you the same thing.”

“Ha! Told you!” Gillian said quietly, pointing at Madison, who’d fallen asleep with her head on the back of the wagon.

“About that…couldn’t the College, maybe, help me?”

Gillian opened her mouth to respond, but Nina blurted out “no. I would not recommend it.”

“Why?” Lilah asked, moving down to the floor of the carriage and pulling Maddy into her lap.

“What do people do in your world when they find something new? Something new, unknown, and possibly powerful?” Nina didn’t want to scare Lilah, but she also didn’t want her to think they were withholding help without a good reason.

Lilah bit her lip. “They tear it apart. Or put it in a cage. To study it.”

“Exactly,” Gillian said, holding up one finger. “Our colleagues at the College mean well, but they sometimes value magic and study over humanity and safety. There was one mage there, J’Zargo. He gave me these flame cloak scrolls to try. They exploded when cast. I was never sure whether his motives were pure or not.”

Nina huffed. “J’Zargo is still there. I’m pretty sure no one really knows his motives. But yes. Stay away from places that might want to study you for posterity. At least until you figure out how to make it work.”

Lilah nodded and held Maddy tighter. The very thought of someone trying to take her away from – She stiffened as she felt a zing shoot through her blood, and her eyes tightened for a moment. Gillian, Ria, and Nina were all staring at her, their mouths wide open.

“Did you feel that? Your eyes just lit up silver for a second. Like sparks. Nothing came out, but you felt something, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. It felt like a shock through my body. Like when I was having Maddy. The doctor gave me an epidural and I felt this zing down my leg –“ she looked around at the blank expressions. “Yeah. Anyway, it felt like a shock. And my eyes hurt.”

“What were you thinking about?” Ria leaned forward and touched her hand.

“Someone trying to take Maddy away. Or take me away from Maddy and leave her alone. I mean, no offense, but I’m her mom. I’m all she has.”

Ria nodded. “We understand. We’d take care of her if anything happened to you, we’d make sure she had a loving family. But…losing a mom is devastating to a kid that young. Definitely no offense taken.”

“That’s another clue,” Gillian said, holding her fingers up as she counted. “You can make potions without even thinking about it. Sparks light up your eyes when you think about your daughter being in trouble. That’s something to think about. I need to talk to Paarthurnax soon anyway. He might have some insight.”

Lilah’s eyes lit up. “You’re going up there again? When?”

“No, I can speak to Paarthurnax in my mind. I don’t do it often because it takes so much energy, but this is something he needs to know. I’ll do it tonight before bed. Maybe he has other news, too. If he’s talked with Akatosh…”

“I still can’t believe I’ve talked to a dragon who talks to god. Not just god, but _a_ god. Like one of many. That’s going to take time to wrap my head around. In the meantime, Nina,” she said, summoning all her courage. “I have a question that might be considered rude.”

“You are not from here and things are weird. I think we can relax standards for you. For a while anyway,” she said, bumping Lilah’s shoulder with her own. “It’s my eyes, isn’t it?”

“Yes!” Lilah sighed in relief. “You have red eyes. And vampires have red eyes. Is there any-?”

“Nooooo,” Nina said, waving her hands in protest. “No relation. I’m assuming vampires get their red eyes from the disease, though I haven’t studied it much. But if you look closely, my eyes are tinged with a little blue, making them look slightly purple in the light. When we get back, look at Hert and Hern’s eyes. True red,” she said, turning to Gillian. “Can you tell me their story? Hert and Hern? Has to be fascinating. It’s not every day you meet vampire lords just working at their mill.”

Gillian shook her head. “Hert and Hern left last night. They need to get back to that mill, and anyway, you never should have seen their red eyes, any of you. Aela gave them an illusion spell a couple of years ago. They keep forgetting to use it. Seems like as preoccupied as they are with disguising their condition, they wouldn’t open the door without it. And long story short: a vampire lord created them against their will, but didn't realize he’d transferred his…lordiness…to them. That vampire lord is now dead. I’ll tell the rest some other time,” she said, nodding toward Madison.

Argis looked back from his perch beside the carriage driver. “We’re stopping soon for lunch. Maybe twenty minutes. Ogmund,” he motioned to the driver, “says there’s a little shaded brook off the river that’s a good rest site.”

Lilah nodded wearily, her arms falling asleep. Hopefully Maddy would be awake to run and play for a while. “How much longer to Solitude after that?”

Ria grinned. “About five hours. We’ll be there around sunset.”

 

* * *

 

 

Argis lugged their bags down to Proudspire Manor while everyone else stopped at Radiant Raiment, the shop closest to the city gate, Lilah was happy to see. Exhaustion had set in a couple of hours ago, and all she really wanted to see in this surprisingly beautiful city was a bed.

Once her eyes adjusted to the candlelight inside the shop, Lilah’s eyes widened at a beautiful green gown on a dressmaker’s dummy near the window. She had no idea pretty clothes existed in Skyrim, although to be fair, her mind hadn’t been on vanity over the past few weeks. Her tiredness forgotten, she noticed colorful bolts of fabric on the walls and carelessly tossed over chairs and tables. She touched one of robin’s-egg blue – her fingers, dry and callused from mortar and pestle, snagged on the raw silk. She needed to find some moisturizer.

“They’re Altmer,” Nina whispered over Lilah’s shoulder, motioning to two ladies behind a counter at the far end of the room. Their features were like Nina’s, but with eyes and skin of a golden hue. “Elves, but different from me. We can talk later if you’re interested.”

Lilah nodded. “Thanks.”

“Also, these dressmakers aren’t nice. Be prepared. They’ll suck up to Gillian because of who she is. But, yeah, my father brought Brelyn and me here before we started at the College. This isn’t going to be pleasant.”

Like the saleswomen in Pretty Woman, Lilah thought. Oh well, if they could make her feel pretty for the first time in weeks, she’d suck it up. For Maddy, too.

“Taarie, Endarie, it’s good to see you both. I hope business is brisk.” Gillian walked ahead and ran her fingers over the necklaces on display near the counter.

“Ah, Gillian,” a woman wearing two gold-colored ponytails said, smiling. “We received your note this morning. The courier looked a little worse for wear. He said you’d paid him double to get it to us before lunchtime today.”

“Well, Taarie, we have a bit of an emergency,” she said, motioning toward Lilah. “This is my cousin Lilah and her daughter Maddy. They’re visiting for Summer Day and had all their belongings stolen by bandits. So, obviously they need something to wear. My family is priority today, so anything they need…” she raised her brows and jingled her coin purse.

“Hmmm…well, it is short notice, and we don’t usually work with children, but you speak our language, it seems. It can be done,” Taarie said, motioning to Lilah and Maddy. “You two, back room. Undress, please, and let’s see what I have to work with.”

Lilah took Maddy’s hand and allowed herself to be ushered through a door into a brightly lit room. Candles and mirrors are growing on me, she thought. She helped Maddy off with her tunic and leggings, and before she could pick at her own laces, Taarie bustled in.

“Off with that item of clothing, please. We don’t have all night. Underthings off, too.”

“Why, um, do we need to take off our underwear?”

“You’ve never had clothing made before? Surely you jest. I can’t measure around excess fabric. Oh, this is just a _delight_ ,” she said, pulling Lilah’s tunic over her head and grabbing a long measuring tape.

Within a few minutes, the curt woman had taken a blushingly complete set of measurements. She took notes on their coloring as well. “Your skin is amazingly white and smooth,” she said, grudgingly. “That’s something you don’t see every day from residents of Skyrim. Even among royalty. Or, if you’re Gillian’s cousin…”

“Um, oh. Yes, we live in Whiterun, but –“

Gillian sauntered around the corner and Lilah sighed in relief. “They did move to Whiterun. From High Rock, but only very recently. Taarie, I saw a green dress on a dummy out there. Blue and pink flowers, and white ribbons. I think it would be perfect for Lilah. Could we try it?”

Lilah’s heart thudded, and Taarie’s eyes widened. “That dress was made for Queen Elisif, but at the last moment, she decided she’d rather have something in blue. It’s expensive.”

Gillian stared at her, waiting.

Taarie’s cheeks reddened a bit. “I’ll go get it. And there’s one that might be perfect for the…child. I will return shortly.”

Lilah grinned. “That was something. She’s right. I’ve never had clothes made for me. Ready-to-wear isn't quite as imposing.”

“I can out-snot these ladies any day of the week,” Gillian said, rolling her eyes. “I’m usually on my best behavior, but honestly. For the amount of money we’re spending in here, they should give us wine and massage our feet.”

Taarie came back with the green dress, and a tiny red one she shoved into Ria’s hands. “For the child.” She threw the green dress over Lilah’s head and stood back, chewing delicately on a pin she’d pulled from a bright red pincushion.  
  
“It needs to be taken out here, right under the arm-holes. And the hem let down just a bit. Hmm…but this can be done. Not much work needed.”

“That’s music to my ears, Taarie. Now, Endarie, if you would come with me out to the front, we can talk gold while they finish up here,” Gillian said, smirking as Endarie’s step quickened at the mention of money. Gillian liked to amuse herself by imagining the sisters’ attitude as a front, their insecurity masked by how they thought clothiers should act. But it was probably wishful thinking.

Lilah examined the dress she’d admired out in the shop. Taarie was busy pinning here and there, but she could see the rough silk was a deep, earthy green, like sage or lavender leaves. The sweeping neckline, a décolletage she’d thought nonexistent in Skyrim, was trimmed in cream ribbons. Wider cream ribbons banded just below her breasts, the ends tied and cascading down her back. Blue and peachy-pink embroidered flowers scattered across the fabric like wildflowers in a meadow. The dress reached mid-calf, its skirt falling from the ribbon at her ribs to gently swirl around her hips. More ribbon, this one a deep plum, circled the hem. “This is lovely, Taarie. What shoes do you wear with it?”

Taarie laughed haughtily. “Ladies wear boots and leggings with dresses, of course, but you probably won’t wear shoes at all for Summer Day. Everyone goes barefoot. Bare-legged. It is a truly disgusting custom. And don’t get me started on the flower wreaths in everyone’s hair. I suppose it’s all right if you like bugs crawling on your head!”

Lilah grinned. “Sounds frightful,” she said, and smiled at Maddy, who paraded around the shop in a dress Ria'd wiggled her into. A cute little poppy-red smock. She imagined her daughter with a wreath of flowers on her honey-gold head and her bare feet dusty on the cobblestones.

In a flash, the green dress flew back off, and Taarie disappeared with it into a back room. Wrestling Maddy out of her dress had been slightly more difficult, but Lilah managed it with minimal tears and the promise of dinner and a honey nut treat if she would stop crying now, please.

They joined Gillian and Endarie at the counter. “So the green dress and the peach tunic and leggings will be ready tomorrow. And the red dress for Maddy. The rest will be delivered to Breezehome within the week?”

“You have no idea how hard we must work to make this happen, but I said it will be done, so you have my word.” Endarie looked from the strange woman and child to the warrior and Dunmer mage accompanying Gillian. There was probably a story there, but she was much too polite to inquire.

 

* * *

 

 

Argis and Gillian spent their last day in Solitude visiting old friends. Legate Rikke met with them in her office in Castle Dour, and shared a jug of mead and gossip. Also shared was a profound thankfulness that General Tullius was otherwise occupied.

The family who’d taken over Argis’s father’s fishing business treated them to a leisurely lunch and a ride out on the sound in his father’s old boat, which pleased Argis more than he’d thought it would. As did the stories and memories they’d shared over lunch and fishing. Watching Gillian’s hair flash red over the blue sparkling sea, Argis couldn’t bring himself to regret his choices, but he did wish he’d taken more time to understand his parents. They’d both died during the war, and he’d not been able to come home either time. It still hurt.

Their last call, and the one they’d put off as long as possible, was to Queen Elisif. Argis wanted to avoid it altogether, but certain formalities had to be observed, although it still grated on Gillian that Elisif had expressed her appreciation of their work in Markarth as though it had been an errand to buy cheese or a nice new bolt of fabric, rather than averting another civil war. But then again, all this had happened right under her nose. Her watch. Gillian kept one eye on the throne as they spoke in polite tones of their life in Whiterun. She noticed the queen’s shoulders relax at the description of their modest cottage, and the fact that she no longer had ties to Markarth, since Jarl Igmund had de-thaned her in an act of childish pique. That small hurt seemed to work to her advantage, and Elisif seemed satisfied that Gillian was not on the lookout for additional power.

As they left the Blue Palace, their hearts felt light. There was just one more weight to lift, and Argis smiled as they strolled toward the Bards’ College. They’d dropped Lilah off that morning to get acquainted with the other bards and learn a thing or two about their role in Skyrim; Gillian was serious about it being a possible career for Lilah. When she and Argis walked inside, a blonde woman met them at the door, her blue eyes shining with unshed tears.

“She said you were coming later, and I…I didn’t-“ Anya stammered, wringing her hands and gazing up at Argis, her eyes tearing up again as she noticed his scar.

Gillian squeezed Argis’s hand and went to find Lilah, leaving them alone to heal old wounds.

 

 

* * *

 

 

With Ria and Nina keeping Madison occupied in the city, Lilah’d been free to immerse herself in the life of a bard for the day. It wasn’t hard to imagine such a life, she thought, strumming on a beautiful lute and listening as two other bards sang a duet. One of the singers was Jon Battle-Born, from Whiterun. He and his wife, Olfina, had shared gossip and interesting tips about the city – first and foremost was a warning away from Mikael, a bard who plied his trade at the Bannered Mare. She’d have to ask the Companions, but he didn’t sound like someone she’d enjoy singing with, so to speak.

Lilah looked up from her lute to see Gillian standing in the doorway, and wondered how much time had passed. She missed her phone, and wasn’t yet comfortable without a clock at her fingertips all day long.

“So, what did you think?” Gillian whispered as Lilah walked over.

“I like it. Jon wants us to sing together on Summer Day,” Lilah said, her eyes merry. “He and his wife will be visiting. Do you have Maddy?”

“No. Ria and Njada are still with her outside. They were picking flowers and jumping on and off the retaining walls, last I saw. And Argis is talking to an old girlfriend,” she said, smiling at Lilah’s expression. “It’s fine. Long story. But when they’re done, we can go, if you’re ready?”

“Yes, let me just say goodbye to everyone,” Lilah said. She stacked up the books she’d been reading and hung the lute back on its stand. After she finished tidying up and saying goodbye, she looked around for the headmaster, Viarmo, only to find that he’d joined Gillian in the entrance hall.

“Lilah, my dear. We were just speaking of you,” he said, motioning between himself and Gillian. “Madame, you have talent. Your lute needs work, of course, but your voice and the emotion contained within…well, that is a rare gift, and one we’d love to nurture here at the College.”

Gillian braced herself for Lilah’s reaction.

Lilah cut her eyes from Viarmo to Gillian and back again. “Really? A bard? Me? That’s...” her smile faded a little. “That’s a wonderful offer. I’m just not sure-“

“Ah, yes,” Viarmo placed his hand over his heart. “Your cousin has explained you’re not sure about staying in Skyrim, but if you do decide to favor this frozen wonderland with permanent residence, you have a place here. You have the makings of a fine bard.”

“Thank you. That is a generous and unexpected offer. I’ve never considered myself particularly talented. I do love music, though.”

Viarmo sighed. “Modest too, so refreshing. Most artists these days are anything but. Yes, dear. Come back anytime.” He bowed and walked back to the practice rooms just as Argis walked from a small corridor with Anya, a bard she’d met earlier that day. They both were smiling but, Lilah noticed, there were traces of tears on their cheeks. When she looked at Gillian, she noticed her eyes shining too. Lilah marveled at the love Gillian and Argis shared. Deep and secure enough, after just a few months, to be free of jealousy and the need to control one another. She realized, with a slight twist of her mouth, that was something she and Jason hadn’t accomplished in over seven years together.   
  


* * *

 

 

Lilah sat by a campfire on the sound later that evening. They’d spent the rest of the afternoon on a small, pebbled beach, playing in the clear, cold water and foraging for clams and small fish. Madison had even caught a fish in her tiny hands, but had let it swim away, deeming it a baby and not old enough to leave its mother. She sighed. Living in a place like this, Madison would learn the relationship between animals and food soon enough.

They’d grilled the clams and fish and some scallops Argis and Gillian brought over the campfire, and watched the sun set behind the mountains in the distance, its dying rays turning the rolling waves pink and white.

Lilah tried to imagine herself in Skyrim, perhaps making her living as a bard, traveling around the province with Madison. Or making potions alongside Arcadia in Whiterun, or with Gillian, who’d mentioned something, in passing, of starting up a mobile clinic, administering healing potions and spells to people not well enough (or well-heeled enough) to travel to cities or shrines.

Whiterun. Solitude was beautiful and definitely more civilized, but there was just something about Whiterun, she thought, as a pair of intense green eyes flashed, unbidden, through her thoughts. She closed her eyes and breathed in the cool, salty air.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How Jon Battle-Born became a bard, Gillian's dealings with the Empire, and Argis's relationship with Anya are told in Sun on Stone, chapters 7 and 12, respectively.


	12. I Am Far From Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Summer Day! 
> 
> Title: this is from Kushiel's Dart, by Jacqueline Carey. A poem about exile:
> 
> Beneath the golden balm settling on the fields,  
> Evening steals in calm and farmers count their yields.  
> The bee is in the lavender, the honey fills the comb,  
> But here a rain falls never-ending, and I am far from home.

Fat, soaking raindrops splashed over Lilah’s face. And on her hands, as she lifted them to the sky, stretching like a cat as silky rivulets ran down her neck and sleeves. The scent of it…flowers and grass and smoke. Even a hint of mountain snow and, she thought, wrinkling her nose a bit, that ever present barnyard-animal odor. Musty hay, dirty fur, and manure.

Lilah hadn’t seen rain in months. There’d been a drought in North Carolina, and the landscape was a hot haze of brown leaves, red clay dust, and the smell of burning asphalt. This rain was a treat – cool and refreshing, part of a perfect summer morning.

Adrienne, the blacksmith, huffed as she passed by, carrying some broken piece of metal back to the city. The rest of Whiterun didn’t share Lilah’s view – it was Summer Day, and rain was an unwelcome guest to the festivities.

Lilah smiled and bent to grab the bundle of birch twigs she’d dropped in her euphoria, turning to see Madison jumping in puddles a few paces back. She and most of the women and children in town were out gathering twigs, vines, and long-stemmed flowers for wreaths and the traditional maypole. Or ‘Great Birch,’ as they called it here, since there was no ‘May.’ She giggled under her breath, thinking of Pulp Fiction’s ‘royale with cheese’ scene after Vincent’s trip to Europe. He was right: it _was_ the little differences.

Most of the men in town (and the female Companions) were busy chopping dead logs and limbs in the neighboring woods, and hauling them to the large field at the back of Jorrvaskr, the only place large enough for everyone to gather around what promised to be an enormous bonfire. A booming crash echoed through the forest amid loud whoops and shouts. Moments later, Farkas and Argis walked out of the forest bearing the source of the crash – the Great Birch itself. Tall and straight, its diameter easily two feet or so, it was carried on the shoulders of six more men, all laughing and singing on the way to the gate.

She took one last gulp of fresh, rain-scented air, and heaved her wheelbarrow back to town, delivering some of the birch twigs and flowers to Carlotta and Fralia Gray-Mane, already busy weaving and knotting. She dropped the rest off at Jorrvaskr for her own wreaths, and went back to gather more, soaking wet, but content.

 

* * *

  
  
Around mid-morning, Lilah heard loud cheering from the marketplace as the rain stopped and sun peeked out from behind fluffy-white clouds. As the sky turned from gray to blue, the town began to celebrate in earnest, welcoming travelers from the countryside and nearby Riverwood to join the fun. Savory smells of grilling meat and onions replaced the cooling rain scents, and crowds began to gather behind Jorrvaskr for the first events of the day.

Aela smoked the competition in the archery tournament, as expected, then treated everyone to an exhibition of trick shots – back-flipping from Jorrvaskr’s overlook while shooting a thrown pinecone and falling into Farkas’s arms drew the most cheers.

“I want to do that, Mama,” a wide-eyed Madison whispered from Lilah’s lap on the porch steps.

Lilah hugged her. “You have to train hard for that, baby,” she said. “Every day. And no more candy.” That last was a bluff, and Madison saw right through it, rolling her eyes up at her mom.

Next, Gillian created ice sculptures using her Ice Form Shout, and Nina and Brelyn set them on fire. Lilah shivered, having been inside that enchanted ice too recently, but the crowd marveled at the ice retaining its shape through the flames. Using another Shout, she called a golden dragon who materialized out of violet lightning on top of the wall. It bowed to Gillian amid awestruck silence, and then took off, roaring and basking in the sun.

“That’s Durnehviir,” Ria explained, watching Lilah’s confusion and Madison’s wide smile – this was her first dragon. “He doesn’t live in Skyrim, and Gillian doesn’t want to talk about where she found him. But she summons him. I think as a favor, honestly, and that’s what he does. Just flies around, happy as can be.”

After the dragon flew over the mountains, Lilah left to take Maddy to the bathroom, and when she returned from a side trip through town to ‘see all the people and smell all the food,’ per Maddy’s request, the crowd was booing and cheering, almost in equal proportions.

“Farkas and Athis knocked over Eorlund’s grindstone up at the Skyforge,” Njada explained, pointing to the pair trotting down the steps to the training yard. “Vilkas called a draw – the fight had already gone on forever.”

Vilkas’s decision drew the wrath of the crowd, who’d not bet on the slight Dunmer’s twin shortswords holding their own against Farkas’s greatsword. “I’ll risk your displeasure any day over that of Eorlund Gray-Mane,” he shouted, ducking as someone threw a wreath at him. “See,” he said, grinning and placing the wreath on his head, “he would have thrown something far heavier!”

“I’m surprised you guys are cool with being part of the entertainment here,” Lilah said to Ria in hushed tones, watching two female Companions grappling in the yard. “There’s nothing wrong with it, of course, but I could see stuffier warriors thinking it beneath them.”

“There are some who might,” Ria said, shrugging. “And if we weren’t part of the town, it might be that way. But we are. Part of the town, I mean. So we’re really just having fun with our friends and family. And if it encourages youths to train and eventually join our ranks, so much the better!”

“I’ll bet it works. I’m ready to join up myself,” Lilah said, sipping her watered wine and cheering.

The enchantment of the day was growing on her. Everyone’s work clothes had been replaced by light and colorful summer finery, and Taarie was right – other than warriors’ boots, there wasn’t a shoe in sight. Flowers covered every available space, from wreaths on heads and doors, daisy-chains around bare ankles, to garlands strung from building to building. Music swelled from the open doors of the Bannered Mare, where bards sang and played their lutes. Food-sellers and merchants called out to passersby, their wares attractive in covered stands.

Lilah’s green dress was every bit as beautiful as she’d remembered, and the birch wreath she wore in her hair, as well as the ribbons she’d braided into it, were the perfect touch. She smiled, remembering Vilkas’s reaction earlier that morning.

_She shut her door, watching Madison’s bare feet pound down the hall, and turned to grab the wreath she’d set on a nearby console table. Quick footsteps thumped around the corner as Vilkas left his quarters, dressed in Companions armor. He stopped, stock-still, his lips curved in a slightly dazed smile. Before he cleared his throat and nodded, and went on his way._

_Lilah glared after him, sticking her tongue out at his back, when he stopped, turned on his heel, and headed back her direction._

_“That’s, um, the trip to Solitude was...that dress….” he stammered, his fist clenching the short-sword at his hip._

_“Oh, this old thing?” Lilah said, twirling around, wondering if he’d seen her little display of pique. She felt her cheeks burning. “Apparently, it was made for the queen._ The queen _. Poor dress, having to be worn by plain old me instead.” She pulled the wreath over her hair. “Is this straight? I can’t tell.”_

_“I’ve met the queen,” Vilkas said, reaching out to straighten the wreath just a touch. He gently untangled a strand of her hair from one of the twigs. “That dress is probably celebrating. And you’re…”_

_A mild shock ran down Lilah’s spine as he touched her hair, his face mere inches from hers. She waited for him to complete his sentence, but he never got the chance. Two whelps raced around the corner yelling that Jarl Balgruuf was upstairs, and Vilkas nodded, his eyes lingering for a moment, and headed for the stairs._

_Lilah fell back against her door, her heart beating faster._

* * *

 

 

“So, are you having fun so far?” Argis fell into step beside Lilah as they walked down toward the village square, a large, flower-strewn space between the gate and smithy. Usually a place for meetings and picnics, today it was reserved for games. The set up reminded Lilah of school field-days – races, horseshoes, disc throwing, and a game that looked strangely like baseball, but with a much smaller bat.

“Yeah, so far, so good,” she said, chewing on a skewer of chicken and vegetable chunks, catching the spicy juices on a tea towel. Madison ran ahead, picked out a games station, and jumped in a sack. “You guys have sack races here?”

“Hm…that’s familiar, huh? Funny how things like sack races cross universes, but not magic.”

“Do the kids do three-leg races? With two kids, and their middle legs tied together?”

Argis frowned. “Not that I know of. But it sounds fun. Come on,” he said, and led her down past Breezehome to the smithy where Adrienne passed out sets of horseshoes.

“Adrienne,” he said. “Could we borrow some leather strips? Long ones. Lilah has a good idea for a game.” He grinned as Adrienne tossed a bundle of strips his way, and he and Lilah ran off to set up their own station.

Even the adults wanted to get in on the new game, so they had to run several heats. Njada and Lilah ended up in second place and felt pretty good about it, since the winners were Nina and Brelyn. It was tough to match the speed of the Dunmer, Lilah’d noticed, especially Dunmer twins.

Aside from one momentary scare when Madison disappeared, the first half of the day had been pleasant. Fun. And even that turned out fine – a few minutes later, Danica’d found her sobbing by the temple. “I wanted the cow to _wear_ my wreath,” Maddy said, holding a few twigs and flowers in her fists, “not _eat_ it!”

After Farkas quieted those tears with a piece of taffy and his very own wreath, Lilah whisked the tired little girl off to Jorrvaskr for a short afternoon nap.

 

* * *

 

 

“Um.” Lilah looked up from the quilt she shared with Gillian and Njada in front of Breezehome. As the sun started to set bright red behind the wall, Argis, Farkas, and a dozen other men began erecting the Great Birch. And, Lilah thought, ‘erecting’ was the perfect word for what was going on in the square, all other games done for the day.

The two-story, vine-and-flower-covered trunk was topped by a large crossbar from which hung two round, flowered wreaths, rendering the apparatus, quite clearly, a flowery penis and balls. She looked around to gauge others’ reactions, and laughter bubbled up from her belly.

Njada elbowed her. “Why are you laughing?”

“Why are you _not_?” Lilah exclaimed, flinging her hand out toward the monstrosity. “Does that not look like a…giant...”

Njada smirked. “Yes, it does. I didn’t know if you’d say it out loud, though.”

Gillian watched the exchange and smiled, sipping her wine. “I was wondering when you’d notice that,” she said, wincing as the men maneuvered the Great Birch into its deep but narrow slot in the ground. Argis’s boot narrowly avoided the trunk as it crashed into place. “Wait until all the men start climbing it. They literally de-flower it, it falls crashing to the ground, and they high-five each other and chest-bump. That’s not symbolic at all.”

Lilah giggled a little more. “Well, it is a fertility thing, right? I mean, the flower sachets with dreams about your husband or wife? And _that_? No doubt what this is all about. Where’s Vilkas?” Her eyes searched the square and the street, and she blushed at the sudden direction of her thoughts. “I see every other man in town paying homage to the pastel phallus…”

Gillian smiled at Njada behind Lilah’s back, pointing to the guard lookout above the gate. “Our Harbinger isn’t exactly known for having fun, but he’s admirable. He wanted to give the guards more time off today, so he arranged with the jarl to pull shifts.”

Lilah shaded her eyes and sighed with a furrowed brow. Did he seriously not have any faults? The perfect strong, handsome warrior façade had to have a crack or two somewhere. Perfection was boring, she thought. And that man certainly wasn’t boring.

She pulled her eyes away from the lookout as Elrindir and Anoriath, elven brothers who owned the hunting supply store, drew the first climb. They quickly and nimbly reached the top, plucked flowers out of the wreaths, and tossed them down to the cheering crowd. Two other men Lilah didn’t know took the next turn. Madison, standing with the other kids near the base of the trunk, caught one of the tossed flowers, and jumped up and down with glee.

The crowd grew louder as Farkas and Ulfberth, the blacksmith's husband, sauntered up to the Great Birch. They paused to drain their tankards. Gillian groaned. “I have a feeling this is going to be the last run,” she said as they started up, whooping with the crowd.

Argis, Amren, and three other men strained to hold the trunk upright, and flowers rained down on the crowd as the two largest men in town climbed higher. Lilah’s eyes widened as they reached the top and started swinging from the wreaths as the trunk began to sway. She stood up, thinking to pull Madison back, but the kids moved away on their own, following the rest of the crowd.

“We’re going down!” Argis yelled as the soft soil began to give way. Farkas and Ulfberth whooped again and slid, jumping off at the midpoint and, along with the other men, lowering the mostly-deflowered log to the ground.

All the kids yelled and clambered on top of the thing, pulling at the flowers. And just as Gillian predicted, there were high fives and chest bumps, along with whoops and tankards crashing together, splashing mead and ale into the air. Lilah leaned back on her hands and took a deep breath, her eyes wandering from the spectacle below to the lookout tower above.

 

* * *

 

  
Vilkas stood in the lookout behind Jorrvaskr, watching embers from the dying bonfire swirl into the air, glowing against the moonlit sky. Most revelers had gone home, but over the crackle and hiss of the fire he could hear laughter and late-night conversation down around the Gildergreen, and music from the Bannered Mare. For some, the party would continue into the morning, but Vilkas was tired, and ready for bed.

As he walked across the yard, he heard singing from the verandah. Lilah. She’d sung at the Bannered Mare earlier that evening, earning a bard’s gift from the jarl himself. He remembered her bright eyes and flushed cheeks as she’d finished her song, her smile lighting her face as the crowd burst into applause.

But this was a quieter performance. A lullaby, he thought, as he neared the high-backed, wooden bench where she sat, cradling her sleeping child on her lap. He watched her, as he’d watched her throughout the day, wondering who she was. What did the most powerful conjurers he’d ever seen want with her? Why did she haunt his dreams? And his thoughts. His mouth twisted at that unbidden admission.

The lullaby quieted, and Vilkas walked around the bench and sat at the other end. “Long day,” he whispered, motioning to Maddy.

Lilah jumped a little and swiped at her cheeks. Vilkas only noticed then that she’d been crying, her face shining wet in the firelight. “Are you all right? Is something wrong?”

She sniffled and wiped her eyes again. “Other than the obvious?”

Vilkas moved to get up. Sounded like she wanted some time alone.

Lilah held her hand out, motioning him back down. “No, stay. I’m sorry, that was…I’m just…” she choked back a sob. “I miss my mom and dad. Everyone I’ve ever known, everyone who’s ever loved me and Maddy are just… _gone_ , you know? I look around at everyone here. They have friends, family…and I might never see anyone again who’s _ever_ given a shit about me. It’s…I suppose I’m not dealing with this very well,” she said, staring out at the bonfire.

“You are. Dealing with it well, I mean. It’s a lot. And I don’t understand most of it. Friends, I have. Colleagues…but I’ve never known my family, other than Farkas. My parents…” he paused, watching her idly stroke Madison’s back. “I can’t miss what I never had. But I can imagine what you’re going through. How much it hurts.”

Lilah swallowed. “How did you and Farkas…”

“We don’t know. Our old Harbinger found us in a necromancer’s cage when we were four. Just like Maddy, except we were awake. I remember everything,” he said, shivering. “Everything except why we were there. At this point, it doesn’t matter. Maybe we were abandoned, maybe our parents were…killed, and we were captured. I…” he trailed off. He noticed her squeezing Maddy a little tighter and changed the subject. “Anyway, Gillian said Paarthurnax still hasn’t had a vision from Akatosh. Don’t give up hope before we’ve exhausted every resource.”

Lilah smiled and kissed Maddy’s forehead. Vilkas leaned back, his arms behind his head, and smelled the woodsy smoke from the bonfire as it drifted with the breeze. He should get up and go to bed, he thought, his eyes closing.

Vilkas shook himself out of his doze a few minutes later. Had it been only a few minutes? He looked at the bonfire – still burning down, but mostly embers. He heard a soft snore. Lilah. She’d fallen asleep with Madison in her arms. He stood up and stretched, watching them sleep, her red-brown hair mixed with the child’s honey-gold.

He gently picked Madison up. Lilah woke with a start, but smiled when she saw Vilkas, yawning and stretching her arms. He helped her up from the bench, and carried the child to their room.

Lilah held out her arms at the doorway, but Vilkas kept Maddy, tiptoeing over to the bed and settling the child against her pillow.

“Vilkas?” Maddy yawned as her eyes blinked a couple of times, and opened, dark and shining in the candlelight.

“Yep, just putting you to bed, kid,” he said, tucking the blanket around her tummy. “Go back to sleep, it’s late.”

“Ok,” Maddy said, yawning again. She grabbed Vilkas’s hand and kissed his palm before slipping off to sleep once more.

Vilkas stood straight, his heart pounding in his chest. He turned to Lilah and nodded. “Goodnight,” he whispered, resisting the oddest compulsion to brush her hair back from her face, and walked to his quarters.

 

* * *

 

  
_She shut her door, watching Madison run down the hall and turned to him. Her green silk dress revealed the tops of her full breasts and clung to her curves. Vilkas’s eyes roamed over her body, but snapped back to her face as she giggled._

 _“Vilkas,” she simpered, her mouth curving into a pout, “what_ happened _?”_

_He looked around, confused, and then felt cold. And…pain. He looked down at himself, and grasped the long, black hilt protruding from his stomach. He tasted copper in his mouth, and looked up at Lilah._

_Light shone from her eyes, strange white light. And when she opened her dark red mouth to laugh at him, her fangs – no…her mouth wasn’t red, but black, the edges of her lips messy and smudged._

_I’m dreaming, Vilkas thought, and tried to force his dreaming self to stay asleep. Find out why…why did she know those words? Why…why was her hair turning white?_

_As the Lilah-figure advanced on him, one hand covering his, grasping the bloody sword, her hair faded from auburn to white, and a blood-red robe replaced her spring-green dress._

_He looked into her eyes, black as night and almost…he squinted through the pain of the sword twisting in his gut. Yes, the black was cracking, and underneath…something white –_

He woke up, his chest heaving as he swung his legs over the mattress, barely holding back the bile he tasted at the back of his throat.

“Fuck,” he said, his voice loud in the pre-dawn stillness.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone reading and reviewing. Feedback and questions are always appreciated and extremely motivating. :)


	13. Baby, You're Like Lightning In a Bottle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vilkas takes steps to find out what's going on in his head and (maybe) in his heart. Lilah is finally pushed over the edge. 
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter title: lyrics from Electric Love by BØRNS

 

Vilkas forced himself to sit at Farengar’s desk, leaning back in the wooden chair. His eyes traveled the rivers and roads delineated on a displayed map of the Hold, the hilt of his ebony dagger twisting in his fidgeting hands. He even recited ‘Ragnar the Red’ backward in an attempt to keep his thoughts at bay. The effort was unsuccessful, but impressive nonetheless.

He’d been cooling his heels for the better part of an hour, waiting for the mage to awaken, when a cracking noise sounded from the adjoining room. Vilkas looked over his shoulder at Farengar, slumped against the door jamb.

“Why?” The mage’s chest heaved with a sigh.

“I need – “

“I wasn’t addressing you. That was my plea to Akatosh, Dibella, Azura…Magnus. Even gods-rotting Talos,” he spat, stalking across the room to his desk and staring down at Vilkas. “Anyone who could shed light on why you persist in wasting my time with your delusions.”

“I had another dream. Please. If you still think after this that I’m…delusional, I won’t bother you again. Only listen,” Vilkas said, jingling a large coin purse, “and this is yours either way.”

Farengar took several deep breaths. “Get out of my chair.”

Vilkas complied, moving to sit on a table near the desk, instead. He waited. After Kodlak died and he started hearing voices, he’d turned to Farengar out of desperation. Yes, Gillian would have listened. Maybe could have helped, even, as talented as she was. But she was his friend, his – _gods_ – subordinate. He couldn’t put this on her. If Farengar refused to help, he’d have nowhere else to turn.

“Very well,” Farengar said, sitting down. “But only because I need to fund an excavation in Winterhold. Not because I’m even remotely interested in helping you, mind.”

“Whatever, I don’t care. Just listen,” Vilkas said, heaving a sigh of relief as he described his latest dream.

When Vilkas finished, Farengar leaned his elbows on the desk, steepling his fingers under his chin. “So in the first dream, the woman knew the question you say –“

“I don’t say, Farengar. It is. I even know its answer. Like I know my own name. I’ve been hearing that same terrifying voice in my head since –“

The mage huffed, his breath disturbing the hood of his blue robes. “I don’t put much stock in your knowledge, warrior, as many maces as you’ve taken to the head. But something…this is curious. You’re sure those weren’t the words you heard before?” Farengar craned his neck to make sure they were alone. “When you were… _there_?”

“I guarantee it. It was a different question and answer, and for months, that voice…spoke in my head, asking over and over, and laughing, like it knew what it was doing to me. But now…new question. New answer. There has to be a reason.”

“Could you please stop damaging my table with that dagger?” Farengar glared at Vilkas until he sheathed the blade he'd been absentmindedly digging into a knot in the wood. “And the woman in your dream is someone you know – the dragonborn’s cousin, you say? But it’s not her voice in the dream?”

“Yes, Gillian’s cousin, and no, the voice in the dream is not Lilah’s voice.”

Farengar nodded, pulling a notebook out of the top desk drawer. “And she has black eyes and fangs in both dreams – but in the second, the eyes are ‘cracked,’ with white showing through. Is there a pattern to the cracking?”

“No. Just random cracks, and the white showing through looks like light. It glows.”

The mage scribbled furiously in his notebook. “The fangs. Describe them. Were they vampire fangs? Or animal – wolf fangs, maybe?”

Vilkas thought a moment, picturing Hert’s transformation the night they found Lilah on the island. “No, no they weren’t. They were shining and white, but more curving out and back towards the middle, not straight down,” he said, curving his fingers out from his teeth to demonstrate.

“And her hair turned white as she twisted a sword in your gut?” Farengar furrowed his brow. “That must have been unpleasant, even in a dream.”

Vilkas grimaced, remembering. “Yes, it was. Her hair faded to white, her lips turned sort of a messy, mottled black, and she wore a blood-red robe.”

“One thing at a time,” Farengar snapped, though he kept taking notes. “A mottled black,” he said, scratching his lower lip with his quill. “Have you ever seen anyone poisoned?”

Vilkas’s mouth was a thin line. He rubbed his forehead and sighed. “Yeah. That’s it, exactly. Can’t believe I didn’t see it.”

“You’re sure. It’s not just the suggestion –“

“No, I’m sure. It looked like decay, poison spreading around her lips,” Vilkas said, shuddering.

More scribbling. Then, Farengar turned to Vilkas and looked him dead in the eye. “Recall is important here: the weapon. Are you sure it was a sword? Could it have been that same dagger that spoke to you? Made you want to hurt this same woman from your dream?”

Vilkas closed his eyes and pictured the bloody hilt protruding from his stomach. “No,” he said shaking his head. “It was not the same. This hilt was much longer, and I can’t swear to it – I couldn’t see the length of the blade from my perspective – but I’m sure it was a sword. The hilt was black, with sort of circular markings on the…maybe leather?”

Farengar looked up, his quill poised over the page. “Is there anything else you remember about this woman? What she said, what she’s doing…even the smallest detail.”

Vilkas leaned back against a wooden column, his arms folded behind his head. “She doesn’t like me much.”

“Does her real-life counterpart? Does _she_ …like you?”

“Yeah. I don’t understand why, after what I did, but yeah. She does,” Vilkas said, smiling.

Farengar groaned. “The warrior in love. Spare me.”

Vilkas leaned forward quickly, the table legs bumping against the floor. “It’s not just that she doesn’t like me, that’s not quite it. She wants to hurt me, and she’s playing with me,” Vilkas said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Like she’s enjoying what she’s doing. Have you ever seen a cat play with a mouse? Before it makes the kill?”

“Interesting,” the mage said, standing up and tucking the notebook into his pocket. “I don’t say this often, and hopefully I never will again, but you were right. There’s something…I’ll have to think on it. Do some reading. I’ll get back to you…oh, Loredas. At the latest. I’ll send a courier.”

“Three days. Sounds reasonable,” Vilkas said, holding up a finger, “and I don’t say that often either. But, why now? This…the voices, those words…they’ve bothered me for a year. Why start believing me now?”

Farengar hesitated. “Something you said sparked a memory, some theory we batted around at the College. It may come to nothing.”

Vilkas nodded and slid off the table, tossing the coin purse on Farengar’s desk. He turned to go.

“Vilkas.” Farengar sighed, pursing his lips and waiting for Vilkas to look back. “Sometimes the cat never makes the kill, you know. It only plays with the mouse. Injures it. Weakens it. And leaves it for another predator. Keep that in mind.”

 

* * *

 

 

  
Farkas sauntered up to Vilkas’s table on the verandah just as Lilah rose from a bench, smiling from ear to ear. “Good morning, Lilah. Recovered from yesterday ok?”

“Huh?” She squinted at Farkas, then smiled again. “Oh, the festival. Yeah, that was a late night. We’re good, though. Maddy let me sleep in a bit,” she said, motioning to the little girl swinging her wooden sword in the training yard. “Well, I’m off to gather more ingredients. See you later.” Lilah skipped down the stairs, stooping to collect the basket she’d left in the late-morning sun, and hummed as she walked toward town.

“What was that all about?” Farkas jerked his thumb at Lilah’s retreating back. “I haven’t seen her smile that big. Ever.”

Vilkas mumbled something while biting on his quill, and Farkas leaned in closer. “What was that?”

“Keep your voice down. I invited her on an evening picnic. Out near the farm, just me and her and Madison.” Vilkas looked up at Farkas, his expression daring his brother to comment.

But Farkas never backed down from a dare. “It’s about time,” he said, swinging a leg over and straddling the bench Lilah’d just vacated. “We’ve known how you feel for days now. Since that night she sang on the verandah, in fact. It’s obvious.”

Vilkas shook his head. “It’s not like that. It’s –“

“Not like what? A picnic at sunset? Just you guys? What’s more romantic?”

“No, it’s not –“ he groaned, catching a piece of paper blown by the breeze and tucking it under his notebook. “I don’t have those kind of feelings for her. I can’t.”

“You do so,” Farkas said, pointing an accusing finger at his brother’s chest. “I see the way you look when she sings. The way your eyes follow her when she leaves the room. I see it. Remember the other night when Gillian was explaining our Civil War, and Lilah came down on the side of the Stormcloaks? You argued with her. You don’t argue with anyone but me, Gillian, and maybe Aela.”

“I’m drawn to her, yes, but I don’t –“

“So what’s the problem?” Farkas smirked. “She’s not pretty enough for you, pretty boy?”

Vilkas pressed his palms into the table and gritted his teeth, trying to keep his voice level. “It’s not that she’s pretty, or brave. Or kind, and a good mother. Or that she smells like…”

“What? What does she smell like?” Farkas leaned in, genuinely interested. “I’ve never noticed.”

“ _Ah_ , I don’t _know_.” Vilkas’s voice rose with his frustration, and he let his head fall on his arms. “But I want to…I want to _drown_ in it.” He lifted his head, slowly, his eyes not meeting Farkas’s. “And that’s the problem.”

“That is not a problem. Did I miss something? Why are you not out getting a damned Amulet of Mara? Now, in fact.” Farkas was used to his brother’s stubborn nature, and his insistence that life wasn’t as simple as Farkas thought it was. Or wanted it to be. But this? Nothing could be simpler. “Have you ever met a woman who’s made you feel this way?”

“No. And that’s- “

“Please don’t say it’s a problem, because –“

“I think there’s something…” Vilkas hesitated, and gripped his quill so tightly it snapped, the ink dribbling down his fingers. “There has to be a spell or something. I’m under a spell, brother. It’s the only explanation.”

Farkas’s laughter exploded, attracting glances from the training yard. “You don’t have a poetic bone in your body, so please don’t try to woo the woman that way.”

Vilkas stared at his brother, idly stroking the broken quill’s feather with his thumb.

“You’re…you’re serious,” Farkas said, sitting up straight. “Why are you serious? _Why_ do you think this?”

“I can’t tell you,” he said, his palms out, forestalling his brother’s angry protests. “Not yet. Calm down. There are things I know, things I’ve…seen. Someone’s working on it for me, and I will tell you soon. Sundas.”

“Don’t you do this, brother. Do not play the brooding, lone-wolf warrior. It won’t end well for you, you know it.” Farkas’s stomach twisted as Vilkas looked down at his ledger. _Damn_. “Answer me one question, now. Tell me the truth. Do you think that woman…do you think Lilah is evil? Trying to hurt you? Do you really?”

Vilkas swallowed. “No, I don’t,” he said, tapping a finger on his ledger. “But, might she be…a pawn of someone who is? Maybe. That’s one of the reasons for tonight. I need to know what’s drawing me to her. Is it just my damned…feelings? Or something else.”

“I think she’s the real thing, brother. For what it’s worth. But be careful,” Farkas said, his face unusually grave. “For both of your sakes.” He got up and jogged to the stairs leading to the training yard.

“Farkas?” Vilkas held his head in his hands, listening as he heard his brother’s footsteps stop and turn around. “Even if she is…I just… I can’t. She wants to go home. Wouldn’t you?” He stood and gathered his notebooks, and walked over to the stairs, watching his brother’s face fall as he finally understood. “How can I fulfill my duty to help her…if all I’m thinking about is how much I want her to stay?”

 

* * *

 

  
Vilkas leaned back on a bench under the Gildergreen and watched torchbugs circle among its branches, their golden light fuzzy in the soft, violet dusk. He’d reconsidered the wisdom of the picnic multiple times since lunch: what business did he have getting involved with her? So irresponsible! And then he’d reconsidered again: how bloody likely was she to find a way home? Should she have no friends or relationships while stranded here? She was a woman, after all, not a Dwemer construct.

For better or worse, he’d ended up keeping the plans.

But Lilah was a little late, and the guards who kept striking up conversations with him worked his already fraying nerves. He’d decided to go check her progress when there she was, Jorrvaskr’s front door closing behind her. A disheveled knot of hair crowned her head, shining garnet in the setting sun, and her tunic was covered in snowberry juice and thorns. Maddy danced along beside her, skipping down the stairs and blowing kisses at the statue of Talos, oblivious to the thin line of Lilah’s mouth and the fragile tiredness surrounding her eyes.

Vilkas stood, lifting a hand to cover his smile – the exasperation on her face coupled with streaks of soil on her jaw and a sprig of lavender stuck in her hair was priceless. “Rough day?”

“Until the last thirty minutes, I would have said no.” She sighed, throwing her hands up by her shoulders. “Maddy was filthy from playing all day, so I changed her clothes first. And then, she had an accident once I got her completely dressed – in all the excitement, she forgot she had to go. And then it was too late, once we finally got to the bathroom. So, we had to do all that again,” she said, laughing and holding out her tunic, shaking her head at the mess. “By the time I got her dry and changed again, there wasn’t any time to change my clothes.”

“I’m just glad you made it,” Vilkas said, retrieving his picnic basket from the bench. “In my humble opinion, you look like you enjoyed yourself today. Like you’ve found a place here, maybe.” He watched her out of the corner of his eye.

“Perhaps,” she said, gesturing to the left as they walked through the marketplace, her shoulders straightening. “Arcadia offered me a job, and a room for me and Maddy over her shop when I’m ready to leave Jorrvaskr. I know it’s not time yet, there’s so much we don’t know. But it’s something.”

“What about the Bard’s College?” Vilkas tried to keep his voice steady, unsure why he brought it up. He didn’t want her to go all the way to Solitude. Did he?

“Yes, that’s another possibility.” Maddy ran ahead, waiting for them at the gate. “She’s trying so hard not to touch their swords,” Lilah said, motioning to the guards, who were trying not to look at the small girl. “This is just a big amusement park for her, I think.”

They made their way through the gate and out to the grassy field in front of Pelagia Farm, where Lilah spread a blue and green quilt on the ground, and Vilkas opened a bottle of wine.

Maddy jumped up and down, her bare feet dusty in the grass. “Can I go play, Mama?”

“Not too far, sweet pea. Don’t go past the farm,” Lilah instructed, leaning back on her hands as Maddy skipped off. “She doesn’t remember kissing you last night. She was too sleepy, poor kid.”

“She’s a sweet girl, that one. Completely sure of how much she’s loved. I wonder where the line is, when children start to worry about their affection being returned,” Vilkas mused, filling their goblets with sweet, red wine. “I know zero adults who would do such a thing, not sober anyway. The terror of rejection and all.”

Lilah smiled at his characterization of Maddy, and then frowned. “In my world, it happens too early, too often. Children who shoulder adult worries, insecure and lonely.”

“That happens here, too,” Vilkas said, dragging a stick through the soft soil.

Lilah nodded, and they fell into a few moments of awkward silence. “I’m sorry. For breaking down last night,” she said, idly picking clover out of the grass.

“Why? I told you, I understand what –“

“It wasn’t that. Not completely, anyway. I mean, I do miss my parents and friends. And pizza, and music, and movies. But…”

“But?” Vilkas prompted, after her silence.

“The rest of my clothes came from Solitude yesterday,” she said, staring into her goblet.

“What, didn’t you like them? Gillian said –“

“No, it’s not that. They’re great. It’s just…” she sighed. “It wasn’t just summer clothes, Vilkas. There were furry tunics and leggings. For me and Maddy. Thick, warm underthings. Cloaks, lined in more goddamn fur. Like a punch to the gut, you know? It wasn’t just an outfit or two, but a wardrobe. For someone who’s going to be here for awhile. And winter seems so far away.”

Vilkas nodded. “Yeah, it won’t be cold for…at least a couple of weeks now.” He looked at her, the corners of his mouth twitching.

Lilah smiled, her fingers working the white clover into a flower chain. “Gillian warned me about your intense winters. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not so bad. And if I do stay, well…at least I have options.”

“You have a place here. With us, with Gillian, or with Arcadia, so don’t worry about that.”

Lilah looped the flower chain around the stem of her wine goblet, avoiding Vilkas’s gaze. “With you? I can’t fight. I’m sure Njada and Aela’ve filled you in on my progress. Or the lack thereof. What would I do at Jorrvaskr?”

What could she do at Jorrvaskr? Vilkas’s thoughts on the matter weren’t those he could speak aloud. He found himself fighting, again, that mad desire to touch her, and remembered the lavender sprig stuck in her messy knot. She looked up and met his gaze as he leaned forward and plucked it, his fingers pausing as they touched her silky, auburn hair. He cleared his throat. “Well, we’re warriors. Do you know how many healing and stamina potions we go through? Or ones to amplify strength or even skill with a sword? Our own potions master would come in handy.”

Lilah let out a shuddering sigh and looked around to check on Maddy. “Madison,” she yelled. “If the cow doesn’t want to eat that grass, please don’t try to force him, sweetie.”

Vilkas drained his goblet and poured another glass. “So, where did Madison’s name come from? Does it mean something?”

“Do names always mean something here? They’re interesting: Stone-Arm, Grey-Mane, Battle-Born. I’m not trying to be flippant. I’m honestly curious.”

“Some do. Mine and Farkas’s have to do with wolves. Apparently there’s some old legend about wolf twins, and the man who raised us thought it fit. Gillian is named for Julianos. Yeah, the god,” Vilkas said, smiling at Lilah’s expression and leaning back on his hands. “She told us a few weeks ago. Argis, well…his name is a funny story.”

“Yeah? Tell me,” Lilah said, shifting her weight to her other hip and looking over her shoulder at Madison. She was still trying to feed that cow.

“His father actually named him Aegis, not Argis. Like a shield or a protector, you know? His mother almost died during childbirth. She was unconscious for a while, and well, it happened. When she found out, she held her tongue, though his father could tell she didn’t like the name.”

“Well, that’s not funny. His mother did all the work, almost died...she should have gotten to – “

“Yeah, you’re right, but here’s the funny part – every time his father proudly introduced young Aegis, someone asked why he’d named his only son – his pride and joy – ‘idiot.’ You know, how some people pronounce it ‘ee-jit?’ Sounds a bit like ‘Aegis.’”

Lilah’s smile spread across her face. “Oh, no.”

“Yes,” Vilkas laughed, taking a sip of wine. “Long story short, he and his wife settled on Argis, which means something about a ship. His father was a fisherman, so it made sense. Coincidentally, his nickname during the war was ‘Bulwark,’ which means something very like his original name, right? So maybe some things are just meant to be.” He grinned at her and his heart skipped a beat as her cheeks flushed. “So, Madison’s name?”

“Madison’s name…well, it’s from a movie. Movies are hard to explain. They’re sort of like plays, but like pictures, too.” She grimaced at Vilkas’s confused expression. “Ok, imagine you’re making a memory in your head of us on this picnic now. You and me on the grass, the sun setting on the pink mountains. Birds chirping, Maddy yelling at the cow, sweet scented grass and flowers, delicious wine… And tomorrow, you think about it quite fondly,” she said, blushing again, “and you bring it back to your mind. You can picture it, scene by scene, right?”

Vilkas nodded.

“Well, that’s what our movies are like. Just…outside our heads,” she said, smiling at his wide, incredulous eyes. “I know. I miss movies. Anyway. Madison’s name is from an old movie called ‘Splash.’ There’s a mermaid – half woman, half fish – and she comes ashore and meets a man and falls in love. She named herself Madison after a famous street in a famous city. I always liked that name,” she said wistfully, and turned to check on the real Madison, who balanced along a low, stone wall in front of the farmhouse. “Wait, mermaids aren’t real here, are they? Like vampires or werewolves or dragons? Do you have mermaids?”

Vilkas shook his head slowly. “Not that I’m aware.”

They sat in silence for another moment. Lilah stared out at the mountains, which really were the most delicate shade of misty pink in the sunset.

“Lilah?”

“Hm?”

“The mermaid…which half is woman, and which half is fish?”

Lilah nodded, charmed by the sincere solemnity of his face. “That _is_ an important detail, isn’t it?”

They gazed at each other a few moments before Lilah’s lips started quivering, and she burst into laughter. Vilkas watched as tears trickled down her cheeks. Too many more days like this, he thought, and the woman’s not going to have any tears left.

She swiped at her red face. “Vilkas, I – “

Whatever she was going to say was cut off by Madison’s scream.

Lilah and Vilkas jumped up, knocking their wine goblets over, the thick liquid turning the clover a dark, blood red. Madison stood, white-faced and stock-still in front of the stone wall. Two black-robed men stood behind her – one held a knife at her throat and her hair pulled back in his hands. The knife glimmered in the setting sun.

Vilkas grabbed his sword from the quilt and took a step toward the terrified girl, crouching as a purple vortex swirled beside the conjurers. Out of it stepped a frost atronach, waiting on the conjurer’s command. The gate guards had to see this, but they were out of archery range. Precise range, at least. They would never attempt to shoot with Maddy as hostage, and by the time they reached the farm, it would be too late.

“Stop right there,” one of the conjurers said conversationally, tightening the knife at Maddy’s throat. “The woman comes with us, and the girl goes free. Defy us, we’ll kill the girl and take the woman anyway.”

“How will you be doing that, if you’re dead men?” Vilkas shot back, glancing at Lilah. She was in shock, he thought, or some sort of trance. Her face and body were completely still, her eyes wide and staring. She looked like she did on the island, he thought, and squinted. Did her eyes just flash silver? Must be a trick of the light.

“You’re brave, I’ll give you that,” the other conjurer said, sneering. “But are you smart enough to know when you’ve lost? Give us the woman – she’s nothing to you, anyway.”

Vilkas edged forward, and the knife jerked again. A tiny drop of blood appeared on Maddy’s neck, and she screamed as the conjurer yanked her head back, her hair twisting tightly in his fist.

“No further, boy. Don’t –“

Vilkas straightened in surprise as the conjurer’s breath caught in a ragged gasp. The black-robed man gagged, letting go of the knife and clawing at his neck. Maddy dropped like a stone, her eyes closed.

“How are you doing this?” The second conjurer gaped. “What magic do you wield? I’ve never…”

Without warning or even the tell-tale pop of banishment, the frost atronach dissipated into frozen mist, and Vilkas took advantage of the conjurers’ agitation, sprinting to Maddy and dragging her away, his back still turned to Lilah.

The mages' eyes bulged, and they fell to the ground screaming, their bones cracking as their bodies twisted and writhed. He turned around and his eyes widened. This was no trance. Lilah raised her right arm level to her shoulder and twisted her hand, her fingers plucking something out of thin air, like threads from an invisible tapestry. She tilted her head to the left, and a solitary tear ran down one cheek.

He settled the unconscious child at her mother’s feet and looked back at the mages, his sword up and ready. But his sword would not be needed. The conjurers' bodies jerked once more, and exploded in a mass of blood, flesh, and bone. Vilkas knelt to shelter Maddy, but the blast never reached them. With one last twist of Lilah's hand, the red gore vanished into the night with a soft whoosh.

Vilkas stood, picking Maddy up and cradling her head against his shoulder. Lilah slowly lowered her hand and inhaled, her eyes closing and opening again. No more tears. Instead, she stared at the ruined mages’ robes on the ground, the edges of the fabric fluttering in the cool, evening breeze.

She turned her head, her wide, gray eyes glazed and flashing silver, and smiled at Vilkas.

Vilkas’s heart leaped in his chest, and he closed the distance between them with a step. That smile. That was it, he thought, his fingers grazing Lilah’s cheek as her eyes slowly regained focus.

“Vilkas…” She looked up at the starry sky and reached out to brush Madison’s back with her fingertips, turning to look at the city guards running up behind them. “Did I fall asleep?”

He gazed at her, his brows furrowed, and shook his head.

“I don’t feel…” She raised a hand to her temple, her eyes rolling back in her head, and collapsed as Vilkas staggered forward, his other arm gathering her to his chest.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone reading and commenting! Feedback is motivating and appreciated. :) I don't like to admit it sometimes, but I'm still a beginner writer and an insecure one. It's nice to know when I'm getting it right. And if I'm getting it wrong, I'd like to know how to improve.


	14. Hold Me In This Wild, Wild World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vilkas and Lilah agree to throw caution to the wind, but what's going to get thrown back?
> 
>  
> 
> Title: lyrics from Warmth, by Bastille

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone reading and commenting and kudosing! :)

 

Lilah awoke in a dark room, one that felt different. Smelled different, like metal and leather and…ink? As her eyes adjusted to the candlelight, she knew for certain – this wasn’t her room. A soft murmuring provoked a vague sense of unease, and she rolled on her pillow to see her daughter’s pink cheeks and honey-brown hair. Relief flooded her being, though she couldn’t think why.

She sat up, stretched, and rubbed her eyes. Someone, a shadowy shape in the darkness, hunched over a desk near double doors. Stiff linens rustled as she swung her legs over the bed, bare feet touching a warm, rough rug, though her legs felt cold. She would be cold, wearing only a shift. But the fur blanket at the foot of the bed made a serviceable cloak, and she wrapped it around her shoulders, tiptoeing across the room toward the desk, its surface awash in candlelight and dancing shadows.

Relaxed in sleep, he appeared at peace for the first time since they’d met, resting his head on crossed arms, visibly muscular under his green linen tunic. Vilkas. She was in Vilkas’s room. Her heart jumped – why was she in his room? She sighed and sat down on the rug, trying to remember what had happened, a deep sense of dread building in her gut. The blithe beginnings of their picnic remained clear in her mind: his story about Argis’s name, the ridiculous logistics of mermaids. He wanted her to stay at Jorrvaskr and brew potions, she recalled, regarding his sleeping figure with a smile.

But how she and Maddy’d ended up in Vilkas’s bed was a mystery. There’d been wine. Had there been too much wine? No, no headache or queasiness, her telltale hangover signals. Her eyes grew fuzzy as she stared at the spiral pattern on the rug, hugging her knees to her chest and resting her chin between them. Her brain sifted through memories of Maddy feeding a cow, walking on a wall… some indistinct danger. Did she fall? Lilah sat up straight, her heart pounding. No, not a fall. A knife. There’d been a shining, silver knife at Maddy’s throat. And then…nothing.

Why did she need a protector while she slept? Was he protecting her? Or, she wondered, her face paling as she stared at the shadows painting the wall behind Vilkas, was he protecting the rest of the hall? The silver knife flashed before her eyes. What had she done?

 

* * *

 

Vilkas awoke with a start and tried to push himself up, but couldn’t feel his arms. He groaned and sat back, letting them fall from the desk, shaking his shoulders to get the prickles out. As feeling rushed back, he looked over to the bed, his eyes gritty and sticky from too little sleep. A momentary chill of panic touched his spine when he saw a smooth expanse of quilt where Lilah should've been sleeping, but he didn't have to look far to find her, wrapped in a fur blanket and sitting on the rug. Just after dawn, according to the glass.

He couldn’t tell whether Lilah was asleep or awake – her head rested on folded arms, and she sat perfectly still in the darkness. Not wanting to wake Maddy in finding out, he slowly arose, his legs stiff from sleeping on his chair all night, and padded in stocking feet to sit at her side. She lifted her head and looked at him, her eyes wide and fearful.

“I remember our picnic.” She spoke in low, hushed tones. “Stories, wine, watching Maddy play. And then, a knife at my daughter’s throat…and I wake up in your bed, with you standing guard. What happened?”

He sighed and ran his hands down his thighs. Njada or Ria would think nothing of taking the lives of those who’d so obviously asked for it. They'd look upon it as, at the very least, a necessary evil, but more likely a triumph. Lilah’d never killed, though, not even an animal. “Long story short, you saved your daughter’s life. And your own. Probably mine? Definitely mine,” he admitted with a rueful grin. “And you, or some part of you at least, figured out how to release your magicka. And then, you passed out. The guards came running, and Farkas too. He carried you back to Jorrvaskr. I carried Maddy.”

“I didn’t hurt Maddy? What did I do? Is Maddy ok?”

“Of course you didn’t hurt her. Maddy’s fine. She woke up a few hours ago and had to go to the bathroom, so I took her, and she fell asleep on the way back here. She has a scratch near her throat,” Vilkas said, motioning to his own clavicle, “but she thinks the whole thing was a bad dream. She didn’t see what happened after you magicked her to sleep.”

“I...made my daughter sleep?”

“Looked that way. It wasn’t me. The way the conjurers yelped when Maddy fell from their grasp, it wasn’t them either.” He noticed tears welling in Lilah’s eyes. “Wait, why…why would you think you hurt Maddy?”

“All I remember is the knife at her throat, nothing else. Memory loss can be a defense mechanism, block out things we'd rather not remember.” She wiped her eyes with the edge of the blanket. “And I put Maddy to sleep. Those mages made her sleep on the island, and –“

“That wasn’t the same and you know it,” Vilkas whispered, trying not to raise his voice. He leaned in front of Lilah, gripping her shoulders and shaking her gently. “You didn’t hurt your child. You protected her. End of story, ok?”

When she nodded and wiped the rest of her tears away, Vilkas leaned back, exhaling heavily. “As far as what you did? I honestly don’t know. Your eyes glazed over, like you saw something I couldn’t see. And flashed silver.”

“That happened once before, on the trip to Solitude. Something Nina said…I thought about Maddy getting hurt, or left alone and abandoned. Over my dead body,” she said, and shivered. “That phrase means so much more now.”

“See? You wouldn’t have hurt her. Which brings us to last night. Two mages appeared in front of the farm. No portal, so I’m thinking they used invisibility potions or enchantments. Not sure. But they did conjure a frost atronach. Has Gillian explained about atronachs?” He waited until she nodded to continue. “They demanded you go with them or they’d kill Maddy. And you…you lifted your hand like this,” he demonstrated, mimicking the twisting and plucking motion she’d used. “Maddy fell asleep. And the atronach and mages sort of…exploded. You made the remains disappear. All the blood, everything, just faded away, like fog burning off under the sun. We recovered some fabric from their robes, and the knife, that’s it.”

Lilah swallowed hard, tears burning her eyes. “Good.”

Vilkas turned his head sharply. “Good?”

“What? Should I be upset? Am I supposed to care about people who threaten my daughter’s life? Yours? Mine?” She scoffed. “No. Fuck that. I hope I hurt them as much as possible before they died.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Vilkas leaned into Lilah, softly bumping her shoulder with his own. “No, I’m not judging. I’m just surprised, because you haven’t killed anything. Ever. Right? That’s just…not the usual reaction after a first kill. Even among warriors.”

“I know. Taking a life should be a heavy burden, and I’m betting if I were a soldier, it wouldn’t please me quite so much,” she said, her gray eyes fierce as they stared into his. “But I’ve thought long and hard about what I’d do to someone who threatened my daughter or anyone else I love, especially after the island. No regrets,” she said, her chin raised. “They deserved what they got.”

Vilkas pushed up on his hands, and turned his body to face her. “More, even, I’d say. Does this help you remember? How it felt to channel all that power?”

Lilah’s eyes shifted back and forth, and she shook her head. “Not a damn thing. I’m missing those hours, completely. So scary.”

Vilkas nodded, thinking of his first turning under the beastblood, twenty years ago. Gods, had it been that long? Waking up the next morning, not knowing what he’d done, where he’d been, or if someone was dead because of him…it _was_ a scary feeling. As was the compulsion to confide in her, tell her about his old bargain with Hircine. Tell her about…other things, things not even Farkas knew. 

Lilah turned to face Vilkas, their knees touching as they both sat cross-legged on the rug. “Why are they after me? What can I do that’s worth their lives? That motivates them to murder little girls? I’m just a mom, I worked in a garden center back home. There’s nothing special about me.”

“Well, that’s not exactly true. You’re a mage, even if you don’t know what you’re doing, and you’re unique – from another world. If those mages figured that out…” Vilkas whistled low. “Conjurers manipulate things from other planes, so other worlds, I suppose, is the next logical step. After the sun rises a bit more, we’ll go talk to Gillian. She said something last night about exercises to get you past a mental block. And, maybe she’s heard from Paarthurnax by now. It’s about bloody time.” He braced on his hands, starting to push himself up. They did need to go to Gillian, he thought, her morning coffee routine be damned.

“Do you,” she paused and picked at her nails. “Do you remember that night…the dagger…”

He settled back down. Pissing Gillian off could wait a few more minutes. “Of course. I nearly killed you with an enchanted dagger. That doesn’t happen every day.”

“What did it feel like? At first, your eyes were glazed over, too. And then, you were…you again. Sounds like what happened to me last night.”

Vilkas rocked back a little as he made the connection. “So _that’s_ why you wondered if you’d hurt...I’m sorry. I keep forgetting you’re from a world with no magic,” he said, shaking his head a little and smiling. “You’re amazing. I wouldn’t be bearing up near as well in your shoes.”

“Thank you,” she said, her cheeks flushing.

Between her tousled hair and flushed cheeks, Vilkas had difficulty concentrating on the subject at hand. That freshly-bedded look suited her. He cleared his throat. “I’m no expert, but I think it’s more likely you lost control of the magic for a bit. Lost control of yourself. It can happen,” he said, noting Lilah’s wary expression, “especially with new mages. ”

Lilah shivered again, and pulled the blanket tighter. She looked over her shoulder at the bed where Maddy still slept. “Vilkas, I-”

“I talked to Ria and Nina last night.” Vilkas started speaking at the same time, almost falling over his words. “They’re going back to Falkreath. To the island. When we left, after we found you, Nina checked, and there wasn’t a portal. And Paarthurnax said it would move. But they’re going to check again, now that we know more about what we're looking for. The surrounding area, too. You’ll be safer back in your world.”

“I almost wish Paarthurnax had told me there was no way home, so I could grieve and deal with it. That’s terrible, right? I know it is. But this up and down, cycle of wild hope and disappointment is making me crazy.”

Vilkas nodded. “I know, and I won’t stop trying to keep you safe and get you home. But there’s no reason you can’t start building a life here, and then if, one day... All I’m saying is, you don’t have to live in limbo. You have friends, skills…and we – _I_ – love having you here,” he said, looking up at her under his lashes.

“What if I…met someone? Someone,” she paused, looping her messy hair around one finger. “Someone I like. Someone I _want_. Just for me. Could I…is it fair to act on it? If I had to leave...”

Vilkas cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “A smart man will know it’s worth the risk of losing you to have you in his life, even for a short time. Anyway, maybe once you get to know this guy, you’ll feel different. Maybe you’ll be glad to leave.”

Lilah raised one brow. “You’re an idiot, Vilkas.”

“You don’t…this is complicated. I’ve sworn to do _everything_ in my power to find your way home. I want to do it, because it’s what you want. What you need. But,” he said, chuckling at the tremor in his voice. “I don’t want you to go. There’s a conflict of interest. Gods. Kodlak never would have let himself-“

“What, let himself feel? Be human?” Lilah’s eyes flashed. “How do you know? I said it before, and I’ll say it again: you take a lot on yourself. Gillian told me finding my way home’s like finding…how did she put it? An invisible necklace that disappears and reappears all over Skyrim. The fact that I’m here is an accident, and the idea you’d ignore your duty – and strand me here – for selfish reasons is laughable.”

“Your life shouldn’t be more complicated than it already is,” Vilkas said, keeping his eyes on hers. Declaring how he felt would make it real, and something to be reckoned with. But he couldn't stop himself. Did he even want to? “I wasn’t going to say anything. Didn’t think it was fair to either of us, but after last night, I – living the rest of my life without being with you, even for a day…well, it's...” He frowned. Whiterun was a small city. Everyone knew everyone else’s business, and people would talk. “But what if– “

“Whatever’s between us doesn’t have to be all or nothing," she said, her voice oddly choked and breathless. Their attraction  _was_ real now, for the both of them, hovering between them like a glowing, uncut ruby. Made to be worked, turned, cut...but delicate. One wrong move might uncover a concealed flaw. Or a weakness. Was it worth the risk? "I know you guys move faster than I’m used to, and I’m not judging your tradition, but given our complications, maybe we should just get to know each other, free of…intention. Enjoy the time together. Enjoy each other. I think that’s –“

She looked down and back up, wide-eyed. Vilkas followed suit, and stilled - their hands intertwined over their knees. How had he not noticed that? Who’d made the first move? Lilah’s hands were pale and smooth in his, and he cringed, feeling his scars and calluses catch on her skin as he lightly traced her palm. He flicked his eyes back up as she let out a tiny moan.

He watched her eyes darken and close, and fought for control, remembering who was sleeping ten feet away. But control was elusive. “I thought we were dead, last night. And we would be, if not for you. You saved my life. Thank you.”

Lilah grabbed his palm and turned it over, kissing it, and sending sparks down his spine. “You saved me first. I just returned the favor,” she said, grinning and then gasping as Vilkas pulled her, blanket and all, into his lap. He crushed her to his chest and pressed his lips to her neck, breathing deeply. He was right – he could drown in her scent.

He felt the heat of her hands as she slowly moved them over his arms and around to his back, a shuddering sigh escaping her lips. Pushing the last little nagging bit of guilt from his mind, he brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek and kissed her. Finally, after weeks of wanting and wondering, he could touch and smell and taste. He had to admit, it was well worth the wait.

She moaned into the kiss, and the blanket fell away as he slid his hands down her waist, intending to grab her hips and pull her closer, but a pinching and cramping in his back made him pause. He groaned. Surely forty years old was too young to have back trouble. But no, there it was again, and he twisted his spine, hoping to stretch the cramp out.

“Ow,” Lilah whimpered, and pulled away, her hand massaging her hip. “Did you pinch me?”

Warily, Vilkas shook his head. “No. Some things might be a little different in Skyrim, but that’s not one of them.” He winced. The pinching grew to a stabbing pain, and he kept his eyes on Lilah’s, a sinkhole of dread opening in his gut. Was this another dream, then? Would her gray eyes and rosy lips darken to black? He dug his nails into the palm she’d just kissed. It felt _so_ _real_.

Lilah’s eyes filled with tears. “It feels like there’s a knife in my back. What _is_ this?” She peered into his eyes, seeing the pain there as he winced again. “Do you feel it too?”

Vilkas nodded, alarmed at her distress. “Yes, I –“ he grunted, and jerked to the side. “Wait, what – “ His eyes widened as the floor and the rest of the room began to fade around them. “Hold on to me. Tight, don’t let go.”

She wrapped her arms and legs around Vilkas, and buried her head in his neck. The poking and pinching sensation morphed into a pulling, like someone trying to yank her out of her own skin. She held onto Vilkas even tighter, and when the tugging stopped, she opened her eyes.

 

* * *

 

“No, the longsword isn’t just about brute force,” Farkas said, instructing some of the whelps in the art of the swing. “If you put everything you have into one swing, you might not have much left over for the next. Plus...here, let me show you. Hannah?” He pointed with his own sword to a spot a couple of feet away. “Come at me, hard as you can. Put your whole body into it.”

With a fatalistic resignation, Hannah turned on the spot, yelling as she swung with all her might. Farkas started his swing from above, so Hannah’d moved to counter it. But at the last minute, he feinted, and ran around behind her, popping her shoulder blades with the flat of his sword. Hannah lost her balance and went down, rolling out of the fall and shaking it off.

“See? Too much momentum in the swing, and it’s hard to change course if your opponent does,” Farkas said, turning his head as Gillian stalked around the side of the building. She was walking too fast for a social call. “Ok, work on guiding the swing through hand position. Dominant hand under the cross-guard. Secondary hand on the pommel. Watch each other. Correct each other. I’ll be back.”

He jogged over and met Gillian on the verandah. Her face was grim, and paler than usual. “What’s going on?”

“I heard from Paarthurnax.”

Farkas leaned against a column, unbuckling his bracers. “Bad news?”

“Not completely. He agreed Lilah should live like she’s here to stay; getting her home is maybe a one-in-a-million shot. So that’s bad. But…whatever’s after her isn’t a daedric lord.”

“But that’s good!” Farkas huffed in relief, unsure why she looked so dissatisfied with that news. “Vilkas’ll be happy to hear that.”

“Yes, but what is it? What else has enough power to mutilate and reform an elemental? And that dagger was definitely daedric in origin. It’s no artifact Paarthurnax was familiar with, and he can’t see the enchantments – to him, there’s nothing there. And we know that’s not true, because Vilkas doesn’t attack people with daggers. Unprovoked,” she qualified, sensing Farkas’s objection.

“You’re right,” Farkas shrugged. “And, she has conjurers after her – Oblivion has to be involved somehow.”

“What do they want with her? And how did she do what she did? Also, and this is the other bad part,” she bit her lip and looked up at Farkas. “There’s no daedric lord after Lilah, but – “

A small voice calling for Farkas interrupted Gillian’s thought. “Did you hear that?”

Farkas nodded and looked around the yard. The back doors slammed open, and a tearful Maddy padded across the verandah, followed closely by Masly. Farkas and Gillian knelt, and took her hands. “What’s wrong, baby? Why are you crying?”

“I can’t find my mama,” she said, as tears streamed down her cheeks. “I woke up and she’s not there. Vilkas’s gone too. And the door was locked. I couldn’t unlock it on my own. So I yelled and kicked. And…” She threw herself into Farkas’s arms and dissolved into sobs.

Farkas picked her up and turned sharply to Masly. “What’s this?”

“She’s telling the truth. I heard her yelling and kicking the door. She said it was locked. I tested it, and it was. I broke the door handle. I probably shouldn’t have, but she was so scared, and I didn’t know –“

“No,” Gillian reassured her, “you made the right choice. What did you see?”

“Just the child. No one else was in the room. But…maybe you should come. I may have missed something.”

They walked through the halls of Jorrvaskr, and down to the Harbinger’s quarters. The room looked undisturbed. One candle illuminated something shiny on Vilkas’s desk, and Farkas walked over, grabbing Vilkas’s key – the only key to his rooms. “Where could they have gone? How’d they lock the door? They…wouldn’t have left Maddy alone, not willingly.”

“No,” Gillian said, taking the key from Farkas and turning it over on her palm. “No, they wouldn’t have.”

 

 


	15. I Fucked With the Forces That Our Eyes Can't See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter is from "Meet Me In the Woods" by Lord Huron. Y'all, I can't believe how perfectly this song describes what's going on with Vilkas in this chapter. 
> 
> "I took a little journey to the unknown,  
> And I come back changed, I can feel it in my bones.  
> I fucked with the forces that our eyes can't see.  
> Now the darkness got a hold on me."
> 
> Question is, what will Lilah do? Can she handle Vilkas's darkness? 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy the story, and thank you to everyone reading!

 

Vilkas loosened his hold on Lilah as the world stilled around them. He shivered, reaching down to scoop up a handful of snow. Sweet Talos, was it cold. “Where in Oblivion…Lilah? Are you all right?”

“I don’t know,” she said, her face still hidden in the crook of Vilkas’s neck. “This is real, isn’t it? We’re not in Jorrvaskr anymore.”

Vilkas blinked as his eyes accustomed to the glare of sun on snow. “No. I don’t know where we are.” He pulled back and groaned, remembering Lilah’s lack of clothing. What had been desirable in Jorrvaskr was potentially deadly here. Her pale skin was tinged blue, and she shivered uncontrollably as a freezing wind whipped through her shift. “We have to find shelter, though. You’re going to freeze.”

He rubbed Lilah’s bare arms in an attempt to keep her warm, and examined their surroundings. The sun wasn’t just glaring off snow, which lay in deep drifts all around them, even covering a large evergreen growing nearby. They were sitting on a beach at the bottom of a rocky cliff face, waves from a large body of water rolling in and out. No wonder the wind was so cold.

Lilah braced her hands on Vilkas’s shoulders in an attempt to stand, hissing as her feet pressed against icy rocks. “No, your feet...” he said, standing up with her legs still wrapped around him, and shifting her body to a cradle carry. He wasn’t sure how long he could hold her, or how long he’d need to until they found help. Between the water and the cold and the cliffs, they had to be in the Pale or Winterhold, if they were still in Skyrim at all. He looked from left to right, trying to decide which way to go when a flash of red caught his eye, just off the beach.

Warmer and happier with Vilkas’s arms around her, Lilah followed the direction of his gaze. “There’s a door! What, is that a cave or something? A what-do-you-call-it, a dugout? I read a story once about a family who lived in a little house underground, but…” she squinted and looked closer. “This is definitely not Plum Creek.”

Vilkas stood still in the snow and stared at the door, identical to the one he’d fought his way through in Falkreath, little more than a year ago, its red hand and leering skull just as forbidding. Twin thrills of dread and vindication shot through his gut. On one hand, he’d not imagined the voices. The dreams weren’t delusions. He wasn’t insane. On the other…those whispers and terrifying dreams had led him here. Someone knew what he’d done.

Weighing his options, Vilkas hesitated. Lilah would freeze to death if they stayed outside, and the nearest town or settlement could be miles away. If this was Winterhold, they’d both die of exposure, no doubt about it. But what lay behind the door…and what would happen when it opened?

The sun disappeared and snow began to fall, swirling around them and sticking to Lilah’s hair, turning it white. Just like his dream. Was it bad luck that brought Lilah into this? Or was she the tool of whoever brought them here, determined to make his nightmares a reality? He looked down, studying her face as he brushed snow from her hairline.

 _She’s going to hurt you._ Vilkas stilled his hand as the voice whispered in his head. _She knows_.

“Vilkas,” Lilah said, swiping at fat snowflakes on her face, “why are you staring like you expect me to sprout another head? Can we see if whoever lives there’ll let us in? Looks like a bad storm coming.”

He shivered a little and nodded. “I can get in there. I don’t want to, but I can.” His eyes shuttered as he looked away and started walking.

After a few paces, Lilah stiffened in his arms. “On second thought, maybe we don’t want to…” she looked into Vilkas’s haunted eyes, and back to the carved skull and bones, the red hand dripping blood as they came closer. “Vilkas…”

He placed a hand on the door, and a whispering voice chuckled. “ _What is life’s greatest illusion_?”

“No. Come on, let’s see if we can find something else, Vilkas. Please.” Lilah groaned and struggled a little, snow flying from her feet as she kicked. “That’s a talking skull, and I don’t think –“

“Look around. There _is_ nowhere else, and you’re right – this storm…we can’t even see the beach anymore. Vilkas grabbed her hand and squeezed it, looking into her eyes. “Innocence, my brother,” he said, watching. And waiting.

She shrugged and rolled her eyes, and then gasped as the door swung open. Vilkas rushed into a long hallway, dimly lit by smoky torches mounted on the wall. “How did you do that? What is this place?”

Vilkas gently lowered her to her feet as the door swung closed, and handed her a torch. “Hold this. I need to look for clothes and a weapon.”

“Vilkas!” She shook her head, teeth chattering, her fist white-knuckled around the torch. “This is – We just got magically pulled out of Jorrvaskr. We don’t know if everyone else in Jorrvaskr is safe, including my daughter. You knew the password to get through that creepy fucking door. I’m not moving until you tell me…something. Please.”

He closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath. “I knew the password because I heard it in a dream. I don’t know what’s in there,” he said, motioning toward the dark hallway. “But you’ll freeze to death if we stay outside. We didn’t have another option. When we get out of here, I promise, I will tell you everything.”

“You heard the password in a dream?” Lilah looked at him askance. “You saw that door in your dreams?”

Vilkas gave her a tight smile. “You remember that frost atronach? And I saw you turn two mages to dust. Is this really so hard to believe?”

“I suppose not. Ok,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Lead on.”

Vilkas took another torch, stepping gingerly through the darkness as Lilah followed him down a staircase that opened onto a large room, dimly lit with more torches and candles. On one side, metal stakes barred the only other doorway.

Vilkas turned back to Lilah, whose eyes widened as she slowly panned the torch around the room. Vilkas followed her eyes, and backed up, scanning for weapons racks. Dozens of silvery-blue shadows filtered into the room, and as Vilkas looked closely at the human-shaped apparitions, recognition dawned on his face.

To his right loomed the Forsworn king, Madanach, and Thonor Silver-Blood, conspirators who’d tried to revive the Civil War just a few months ago in Markarth. To his left, he spied the child-like vampire, the Alik’r assassin, and the insane jester – just a few among the kills that started this whole mess.

“Are these ghosts?” Lilah took a few steps toward Vilkas and shone her torch around, illuminating what was once Ulfric’s lieutenant, Ralof, and several of the Silver Hand.

_“Enjoying your walk down memory lane, Harbinger?”_

Lilah spun around, looking for the source of that cold, haughty voice. “Vilkas?”

His eyes shifted to the left, and he grabbed a greatsword from a nearby rack, hearing Lilah gasp as he passed through several of the milling ghosts. His stomach clenched. If they got out of this alive, she’d probably never speak to him again. And he wouldn’t blame her.

 _“Oh, darling,”_ the voice purred _, “you won’t need that. I’m only in this for your mind, and possibly your soul. But your body is not what I’m interested in. What is_ she _interested in? Your lovely companion, I mean?”_

“Leave her out of this,” Vilkas barked.

_“Oh, she’s very much a part of it. She haunts your dreams, after all, and makes you question your own mind. Who is she? The woman you want to warm your bed? Or the creature who stalks you in the hours just before dawn? I find your uncertainty quite…delicious.”_

Vilkas flinched as the voice turned its malevolence toward Lilah.

_“Our brave warrior dreams of you, my dear, but not the soft and sensuous form I see before me. Oh, no. In his dreams, you rip his throat out with your fangs. And twist your sword in his gut. Ah, what he must think of you, deep in his heart of hearts.”_

“What do you want?” Vilkas asked, his voice dull and resigned.

 _“You owe me,”_ it snarled _. “Twice you’ve meddled in my business, disturbed my affairs. So twice you owe me. If I’m the instrument by which you lose your honor, your sanity, and your lover, well, that’s payment enough. And this time I leave nothing to chance…”_

A bright light flashed, and for a moment, Vilkas wasn’t sure what happened. He glanced over his shoulder as Lilah cried out and sank to her knees. Three more ghosts had appeared, and Vilkas’s shoulders slumped as he recognized the small one. A tiny girl. Maddy. "N-no," he stammered, stumbling, the tip of his sword sinking into the crumbling stone at his feet. 

“Our daughter disappeared without a trace one day,” said one of the three, an older man, silver tears streaming down his face. He stood next to a woman who cried even harder. “And our granddaughter. Lilah and Maddy, just…gone. Our hearts couldn’t take the pain of imagining them lost. Dead. Hurt. We couldn’t live without them.”

“Mama, why did you leave me? You shouldn’t have left me, Mama,” Maddy’s ghost wailed. “I was alone. I wasn’t safe. They came for me, Mama, and you weren’t there!”

Vilkas knelt before the tiny ghost, tears welling in his eyes. Behind him, Lilah screamed, and kept screaming as the horde of spirits shambled toward them, Maddy and Lilah’s parents first in line.

 

* * *

 

“Love, could you bring me that bunch of frost mirriam from the fire?” Gillian called to Argis from the laboratory, smiling as her husband rose from his chair and his book to fetch ingredients for some sneak potions Ria’d requested. She needed to stay busy. Waiting for news of Lilah and Vilkas had her nerves on edge, and she’d already finished her latest book, so work was the only other option.

Argis walked toward the lab carrying the tied bunch of greens, and held them behind his back. “You get these if I get a kiss,” he said, not waiting to kiss her forehead.

“Oh, come here.” Gillian smirked, but instead of lifting up on her tiptoes, she swayed and braced against her alchemy table.

“You've never left me hanging before,” Argis said, and peered closely at Gilly’s pale face and tight lips.

“I…my head. It’s…” The mortar and pestle crashed to the floor, and Gilly grabbed her head, hissing in pain and doubling over.

“Gilly?” Argis dropped the dried leaves and guided his wife to the dining table. “That’s a pretty sudden headache. Are you –“

He blanched as Gillian screamed, falling from the bench to the floor and holding her head to her knees. “What? Lilah, I…”

Argis knelt by his wife and watched her groan and writhe in pain. He’d never felt so helpless.

Gillian pressed her hands to either side of her temples and shrieked. “Maddy’s fine! She’s safe! At Jorrvaskr with Farkas! Yes, I swear it, she’s safe!”

Argis rocked back on his heels as his wife fell quiet, her eyes closed. He checked her pulse and let out a relieved sigh. And another one as Gillian spoke.

“Vilkas and Lilah…somewhere north,” she said, her voice weak. “Cold, snowy. A ruin, maybe. Her power…so strong. She…Paarthurnax.” Her breathing grew calm and even as she passed out.

Argis wasn’t afraid for Gillian’s life anymore, but she might need healing. He picked her up and carried her out of the house and up to the Temple of Kynareth. Later, when Danica had tucked Gillian in for observation, Argis walked up to Jorrvaskr. Farkas would want to know what happened. He’d just passed the Gildergreen when something Gilly said resurfaced in his mind. Why had she mentioned Paarthurnax? What had Lilah done?

 

* * *

 

Lilah’s eyes flared silver, and she clambered to her feet and raised her hand. The ghosts of Maddy and her parents, as well as several others who’d gotten too close, faded away. Vilkas turned around, tears drying on his cheeks, and watched her, stunned.

“Nice try, whoever you are,” she said, wiping tears away from furious gray eyes. “You lie. I know it.”

 _“Hm… I’m impressed,”_ the voice said, with a hint of a chuckle _. “Vilkas, your_ former _lady love is quite the surprise. But all tricks aside, and you have to admit that was a good one, it’s time to come clean about our other guests.”_

“Vilkas,” Lilah said, moving to stand beside him. “Tell me. I want to hear whatever it is from you, not more lies from that…thing.”

“Everyone here,” he said, and cleared his throat as his voice cracked. “I killed everyone here. That’s what…whoever this is…that’s what she wants you to know. I killed them all. It’s true.”

_“Yes! Yes, you did, valiant protector of Skyrim. Including this very sad case...”_

Lilah watched as a woman shuffled forward. “All I ever wanted was to have children of my own. When that wasn’t possible, I did the next best thing – took care of children who’d lost their parents. Until you,” she said, crystal tears pouring from her eyes, “you... All I wanted to do was love them, provide them a caring home. And you…” she dissolved into sobs.

Lilah noticed Vilkas’s jaw clench as her own eyes filled with tears. Wasn’t he going to say something?

“ _In cold blood, Harbinger. Killing a mother in cold blood_.” The taunting voice tsked.

Vilkas lifted his chin. “My blood wasn’t cold when I did that.”

“How about us, brother?” A tall, fair-haired couple approached. “You were my shield-sibling, and you slaughtered me. And my wife. What had we ever done to you?”

Vilkas turned to Lilah, his eyes glossy and pleading, but as he opened his mouth to speak, every ghost began talking and wailing at once. The cacophony was deafening. “That’s enough,” Lilah said, rolling her eyes. With another flick of her wrist, the room dimmed as each glowing spirit faded into shadow.

 _“You spoiled my fun,”_ the voice said, tsking again as the last flash of blue disappeared _. “Ah, well. But the damage is done, I’m afraid. You know it, my dear, and his friends and brother will know by the time you get back. Lies, Vilkas. That tangled web of lies was almost enough to impress even me.”_

Lilah watched Vilkas bow his head and lean over, hands on his knees. After a minute or two, she stopped waiting for the next taunt, and started to search chests and drawers in the room for clothing. As her shock wore away, she finally felt the cold that had seeped from the snow and the cave and the ghosts and the fear…right into her very bones.

Vilkas heard her sigh and turned around, heaving the greatsword to his shoulder.

“Could you help me look for clothes?” Lilah asked. “This chest is locked. I can’t…” she broke off as Vilkas walked over and broke the wood around the lock, perhaps swinging harder than he had to. Lilah didn’t blame him, after the morning they’d had.

Numbly, he pulled out several pairs of leggings and a few tunics left in the chest. Even a pair of leather boots. Lilah tried them all on, and kept the ones that fit best. “We’ll need other things. Supplies,” he said, struggling to keep his voice level. “Things to sell for passage. I don’t think we can walk all the way to Jorrvaskr.”

“We have no idea where we are,” Lilah said. “We’ll have to walk for a bit, at least.” They searched in silence and found a few coins, soul gems, and backpacks, stuffing the latter with spell books and potion ingredients pilfered from a large armoire.

“Lilah,” Vilkas said, “how did-“

She shook her head, one finger over her lips, and motioned toward the door as she wrapped a fur blanket around her shoulders. “Not in here. Outside.”

After they’d made it off the beach and out of sight of the cave, Lilah turned to Vilkas.

“Are you really going back with me?” he asked, forestalling her questions. “After you…now that you know?”

Lilah smiled a sad little smile. “You rescued me and Maddy – she’s fine, by the way – from torture and certain death,” she said, noting the relief and wonder on his face at the news. “You turned an enchanted dagger on yourself rather than hurt me. You internalize everyone else’s problems. You take shifts for guards so they can enjoy a simple festival. You watch over me and Maddy all night, to keep us from danger.”

Vilkas looked at her warily. “But…”

“You look at me, and my heart stops,” she said, brushing his cheek with the back of her hand, and smiling as Vilkas leaned into her touch. “That last one isn’t as important, but it’s still true. So what exactly do I know? I know who you are, and I suspect you’re not perfect, as much as you like to convince people otherwise. Yes, you do,” she said, as he shook his head and frowned. “And now, you’re going to tell me everything.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story of what happened in Markarth with the Silver Bloods is told in Sun on Stone, part one of this series.


	16. Woman, Won't You See Me In the Dark?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vilkas and Lilah talk in the aftermath of their experience in the Dark Brotherhood sanctuary.
> 
> Chapter title lyrics from Woman Woman by AWOLNATION.

Lilah stood at the dresser in their room at the Windpeak Inn, toweling her hair dry and running through the tangles with an ivory comb. Her tunic of brown homespun was slightly rough and scratchy, but better than the clothes she’d found in the murder cave. The spellbooks, ingredients, and soul gems they’d taken fetched a good price at the town’s apothecary. Curious, Lilah thought, that it was the only shop in town.

She and Vilkas both wanted to start for Jorrvaskr immediately, but Lilah couldn’t walk more than a mile or two in her ill-fitting boots. Strike two – no one had horses to spare, and strike three – the coach wasn’t due to leave until Fredas. Early Fredas. So they sent a courier to Jorrvaskr, promising him, upon honor of the Harbinger, double his fee if he’d get there by nightfall. At least friends and family would know they were safe and unharmed, and soon to be on their way

A flash of movement in the mirror. Vilkas. He’d been quiet since discovering they’d been so close to Dawnstar after all. Of course, he was beating himself up over it – if only he’d kept walking, if only he’d tried harder, they wouldn’t have had to go into the Sanctuary, as he called it. The lair of the Dark Brotherhood, some supernatural band of assassins, apparently. He’d been mum on the details so far, but Lilah was determined to wangle the whole story from him. Today. Getting their room, food, and a bath had been paramount, and now with clothes that didn’t reek of cave and rot, thanks to a successful barter with the innkeeper’s daughter, Lilah was feeling like herself again.

“So.” She sat on the bed next to Vilkas, her bare legs crossed, and hugged a pillow to her chest. “Spill. What was all that about back there? The ghosts? The voice? And why is she trying to ruin your life?”

“I don’t know who it is,” Vilkas said, shaking his head at Lilah’s cynical expression. “No, I really don’t. I have my suspicions, but it must be…impossible.” He lay down on his back, crossing his arms behind his head. “Let me just start at the beginning, ok?”

When she nodded, he stared up at the ceiling. “Little over a year ago, Kodlak died and named me Harbinger, and I wasn’t in any shape to take over. Be a leader. Kodlak wasn’t just my boss or mentor. He was more like my father, so the grief was…hard to handle. I ran off for a few days and ended up in Riften. I was drunk one night in a disreputable part of town. To be fair, that’s all Riften is, really. Anyway, I saw this woman dragging a kid through the slums. I followed them. The kid was crying. Silent tears, you know, like he’d just given up, and he limped. She dragged him back through town to an orphanage, and punched him in the stomach a few times, yelling at him to stop crying before they went inside.”

Vilkas rolled over to look at Lilah. “Remember that ghost who cried because she loved kids so much? I went back to Jorrvaskr and bargained with Aela. She has a mask that completely hides the wearer. Like you just don’t exist. I took it back to Riften, and stayed at the orphanage for a few days, followed her every move. Turns out, that amazing paragon of a woman was renting the kids to whoever wanted to use them,” he said, his voice dripping with venom. “For thievery, sex, didn’t matter.”

“Shit, Vilkas.”

“Yeah. Most of the kids were orphaned by the Civil War, too. They’d already gone through so much, just to be… So, I killed her. Slit her throat and dumped her body in the canals, sent a report to the jarl. Her assistant took over, and things got better. We’ve been monitoring the orphanage since, and sending money.”

“And someone had a problem with you killing a monster?”

“Yeah, you could say that. Apparently that woman, Grelod, was hated all over. There was already a contract on her life, and the Dark Brotherhood had accepted. They looked at what I did as stealing. One of them found me about a week later. I was in a ruin, looking for someone’s long-lost heirloom, and next thing I know, I’m waking up in a cabin somewhere. This woman told me I owed them a kill, and she’d either kill me, or I’d kill whoever they chose.”

“What did you do?”

“She forgot about the third option – kill her and everyone she knows. Which is what I did. She took my weapons, but I’ve wrestled dragons. One assassin wasn’t that much trouble. I found their sanctuary in Falkreath and camped outside, waiting for someone to come out. No one ever did, but there was this pit near the door,” he said, shivering at the memory, “full of tar or something, and I set it on fire. Something in the pit started screaming, like a wild animal, and out they all came. One, the ghost who said I was his shield sibling? He wasn’t lying about that. Arnbjorn was…he was one of us for a while, but the Dark Brotherhood was more his taste, so he left.”

“Was his wife one of the Brotherhood, too?”

“She was who’d drugged me in the ruin.”

“Oh,” Lilah said, scooting a little closer to Vilkas. “Well, what happened next? What about the voice?”

“Everyone who ran out that door, I killed. And then I sneaked in, wearing Aela’s mask, and took care of the rest. Did you see a little girl in the Sanctuary, looked about eleven? She was a vampire. Yeah. And the guy dressed up in a jester suit?”

“I noticed him. He seemed...stable.”

“Gods, you have no idea. He was the last one I killed in Falkreath. I found him in a coffin, sleeping. And not alone, either. There was a mummified body in there too. Looked like a woman, what used to be a woman,” he said, rolling over on his side. “While I was trying not to vomit, the jester woke up and started going nuts. Screaming about how his mother needed him, his mother was under attack.”

“Any idea what he was talking about?”

“Yeah. The leader or guiding spirit or whatever, of the Dark Brotherhood's called the Night Mother. People pray to the Night Mother to get the Brotherhood to do their bidding. Anyway, I killed the jester, and then damned if the mummy didn’t start to talk. To me. Whispering about embracing her in the darkness, and warming her ancient bones. So…I set her on fire. I burned the whole thing. I mean, the sanctuary itself is in a stone cave, but I set fire to everything.”

“So, do you think that was…the actual Night Mother? In the murder cave?”

“Not sure what she meant by my messing with her plans twice, but I don’t see who else it could be. I’ve been hearing that voice ever since. Whispering, threatening, persuading. And the dreams. Horrible dreams about you, where you turn into some creature and try to kill me,” he said, picking at a loose thread on Lilah’s stocking. “The jarl’s mage is the only other person who knows about this, and he says it’s not possible. That it’s the Night Mother, I mean. He has some research to do, says he’ll get back to me on Loredas. So, two days.” Vilkas huffed, rolling onto his back. “I should have kept walking. We were _that_ close to Dawnstar. I shouldn’t have put you at risk.”

“I’m not so sure we had a choice. Think about it. Some powerful entity pulled us out of Jorrvaskr. It wanted us to be there,” Lilah said, turning his face to hers with one finger under his chin. “Do you think that freak snowstorm was an accident?”

Vilkas stared back at the ceiling as Lilah lay on her side, her head propped on one hand. “So you killed a bunch of assassins? And a woman who prostituted children she swore to protect? I’m definitely on your side so far. What was the Night Mother, or whatever that was, so certain would push me away?”

“You don’t know everything yet, and I don’t know what else _she_ knows, so I’m just going to tell you everything. It’ll all come out eventually, anyway.” Vilkas laced his hands together over his chest and barked a rueful laugh. “About twenty years ago, I was invited to join the inner circle of the Companions. Farkas, too. Aela was already in, and another man who died not too long after. But to join the Circle meant we had to become something different,” he said, taking a deep breath. “There’s no easy way to say this. I used to be a werewolf.”

“Say what, now?” Lilah laughed and shook her head. “You’re fucking with me, right?”

“No. We were all werewolves: me, Farkas, Aela, and Kodlak. Traded our souls to Hircine for that power. The Circle’d made that bargain for hundreds of years before us. We didn’t think anything of it.”

“Gillian told me a little about daedra. You said you _used_ to…how’d you get rid of it?”

“There was a ritual,” Vilkas said, picking at threads in the quilt. “If it’s ok, I’d rather not talk about it right now.” He looked up, and when Lilah nodded, he continued. “Anyway, Kodlak wanted his soul back. Wanted to go to Sovngarde when he died, rather than hunt with Hircine forever. And the rest of us noticed we were slowly becoming more beast than human, so it had to be done. But while I was a werewolf, I sort of...reveled in the violence. I hunted in wolf form and tore my prey apart. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I liked it. Killing. I still do. I liked killing that woman, those assassins, so many others. So maybe I’m not worthy of being Harbinger. Maybe I’m not worthy of you, even though…” he trailed off, shaking his head.

Lilah rolled over on her stomach and stared at the headboard for a minute. There had to be more to this story. Vilkas couldn’t just like killing. He’d had the opportunity to kill her and blame it on magic, so why hadn’t he taken it? “What do you mean, you like killing? Like, you enjoy how it makes you feel? Physically? Or does it make you feel better there are fewer bad guys in the world when you’re done? In my world, there’s a movie, a show, called Dexter. He had some massive childhood trauma, kind of like yours, and he likes to kill, likes the way it makes him feel. It’s the only time he really feels anything at all. But he can’t just go around killing people; he understands that it’s wrong, logically. So, he kills rapists and murderers. Is that what you mean?”

“Not exactly. I don’t think I’d like it, just killing for no reason. I mean, if I went up to some random guy on the street and knifed him, I’d feel bad.”

“But killing a woman who sells a child into prostitution makes you feel good?”

“Yeah.”

Lilah snorted and rolled back to her side, closing the distance between them. She rested her head on his bicep. “That night, weeks ago, when I was watching fireflies and you tried to get me to go back inside, you stared out into the darkness and I wondered what your abyss was like. What might be looking back at you. I think you’re torturing yourself for no good reason.”

“I thought you might feel that way, you know,” he said, still staring at the quilt. “From that night, on the island, I felt like I knew you, like you knew me. Every day, I’ve been pulled toward you like a puppet on strings, though I couldn’t figure out why. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re brave and strong and smart and pretty, but I didn’t want this. Wasn’t looking for any sort of attachment at all. But _you_ …you got to me in a way no one ever has, and last night, after you killed those mages, I knew.”

Lilah raised one brow. “What? What did I do?”

“You blew those mages apart, Lilah, and you turned to me and smiled. Just like you did on the island. I walked toward you, covered in blood and guts. I found a tooth lodged in my gauntlet later. It must have been terrifying, especially given what you’d been through. But you smiled at me that night, too.”

Lilah swallowed and stared up at him.

“It’s like you see me.” His voice was low, almost a whisper, and he opened her left hand, tracing her fingers with his own. “Through the darkness I fight, everyday. You see me in that dark place. Or, you’re in the dark, too, somehow. But, I don’t know how that can be. Light shines from you, I can see it.”

“Vilkas,” Lilah said, squeezing his hand. “You don’t like random killing. You want to hurt people who hurt _other_ people. I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

“That’s the thing, not everyone feels that way. Gillian hated killing anything, even dragons, really. She did what she had to do, but didn’t feel good about it. If you talk to any priest or priestess, yeah, life is sacred. All life. Even Farkas…he’s visibly shaken when he has to take lives, I can tell. But it’s never bothered me. Makes me think something’s missing, something’s wrong.”

“Why not just stop?” Lilah stared into his tired, green eyes. How had he lived his life with all this guilt? “Do something else? Don’t put yourself in that position?”

“You’ve seen the worst Skyrim has to offer, and you’ve only been here a month or so. If I don’t…if _we_ don’t take them out, who will? Not everyone’s able to do the things the Companions can do, so it’s our responsibility.”

“See? That’s a considerate thing,” she said, poking his chest with a finger. “You take things on yourself, do the violence, so other people don’t have to, and fewer people get hurt. You’re not evil, just... everyone makes mistakes, and most people have dark sides. I’m not as shiny as you think. I probably did enjoy killing those mages. Remember, I told you already, I’ve thought long and hard about what I’d do to anyone who hurt someone I loved,” she said, her breath catching as he caught the hand she gestured with and held it to his heart. “I promise you don’t want to hear it. You’d probably run for the mountains. Or back to that murder cave. Darkness isn’t inherently bad. It depends on how you use it.”

Vilkas shook his head. “I’m afraid, one of these times, I won’t find my way back.”

“You haven’t asked me how I made the ghosts disappear, back in that cave. And got a message to Gillian.” Lilah turned her back to him, pulling his arm around her to rest their joined hands at her ribs.

He propped up on an elbow. “I figured you’d tell me when you were ready. It was amazing.”

“Yeah. I kept control over it this time, too. And I’m still not sure exactly how, but it’s like Paarthurnax said. I can change the resonance of things, the vibration. I feel the disruption, the particles moving apart and disintegrating. I destroy, and it feels good. Is that wrong? Inherently bad? Bound to populate my own abyss with monsters?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. It’s hard to pinpoint anyone else’s weakness but my own.”

“If you have any weakness, Vilkas, it’s that damn pride of yours. That ‘if I don’t do it, who will?’ mentality. You have to let people in. And sometimes you have to let go.”

“If anyone has to screw up, I’d rather it be me. Like what happened with Torvar. I should have been all over that, and I wasn’t. And because of it, Devin’s dead, and Torvar’s still drying out at the temple. He’ll be gone for at least a year paying off blood debt to Devin’s family, if they’ll accept it. I can’t let that stuff go.”

“But people make their own decisions, too, Vilkas. What Torvar did was his own choice. Ria and Njada covering for him was theirs. And whether or not to devote resources to finding my way home should be _mine_. What if I decide I want to stay? Would you accept that, or would you want to keep searching because you feel it’s your duty?”

“Is that what you want?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t want people putting themselves in danger for me. On the other hand, maybe my being here is causing more danger. Those mages, they’re not going to stop coming. Maybe I need to leave. Or just give myself up,” she said, her eyes tearing up as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. “I’ve considered it.”

“And I’m the one who takes too much on myself,” he said pulling her over on her back and pinning her to the bed. “That is out of the question, and no, I will not accept it if that’s your choice. I’ll fight it with everything I am.”

Lilah closed her eyes, and they burned as tears leaked out and ran into her hair. “I don’t know what I want to do about the portal. Part of me wants to just give up and stop looking, but I feel awful about it. Guilty,” she said, looking up at him. “I do know that I still want you, though.”

“Really?” He smiled, despite his fury at Lilah’s proposed self-sacrifice. “Even after all this?”

“Yeah,” she said, pulling one of her arms free and letting her hand roam over his chest. “You said it. Neither of us wanted this. I didn’t want an attachment. I’m stuck in another universe; getting involved in a romance is ludicrous. And there’s Madison. I didn’t date anyone in my own world, because dating with kids is…complicated. But there you were. And here we are, and yes, I’ve been drawn to you from the beginning. Maybe you’re right. Maybe our shadows blend perfectly, and our light.”

“Are you sure?” His eyes locked on hers. “The deeper we go, the farther we fall, the harder it’ll be to let go if we have to, eventually.”

“I know,” she said, and raised her head to place the lightest of kisses on his mouth. “But it’s a chance I’m willing to take, if you are. To let something good come from all this.”

Vilkas exhaled heavily, and Lilah pulled her other arm free, wrapping them both around him and gazing into his astonished face. “I’m glad we’re sharing a room. I know you insisted for safety, but I’m glad there’ll be no sneaking back and forth.”

He laughed, kissing her nose. “Honestly? This is exactly what I had in mind. I didn’t think it would happen, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t part of the game plan.”

“Me too,” she said, and pulled him closer, but before her lips reached his, she paused. “Wait. We’re at an inn in the middle of the afternoon. Won’t people hear us? They’ll know exactly what we’re doing.”

“Maybe,” Vilkas said, slowly tracing a line from her jaw down to the neckline of her tunic. “But there’s a bard out there, and lots of loud people eating and singing along. And we’re probably not the only ones whiling the afternoon away like this. Think of how cold and snowy it is here. What else is there to do that’s this much fun?”

Lilah’s eyes darkened, and she pulled him the rest of the way down.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear you guys, I'm not averse to writing sexytimes. If you've read any of my other stories, you know this. It just didn't feel right this time to include it, so I faded to black. But I promise there will be many sexytimes in Lilah and Vilkas's future.


	17. I'm Gonna Kiss You Like the Sun Browns You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vilkas and Lilah are going home, but what awaits them once they reach Jorrvaskr? 
> 
> Chapter title: from Every Other Freckle by Alt-J. If you guys have listened to this song, you know exactly what’s going to happen in this chapter. If you haven’t…well, if you’re not a reader who enjoys reading about sex, you might want to skip from the first break to the end.
> 
> Rewritten! I wasn't happy with the romance after reading it a couple of times, so I added some things. Enjoy!

Vilkas awoke, blinking and cursing as the dawning sun pierced through the glass window and seared the inside of his eyelids a bright orange-red. He shaded his eyes and nudged Lilah’s shoulder. She’d rolled on her belly during the night, blessedly avoiding the blinding glare, and stretched and smiled as she turned to face him. He laughed when she opened her eyes only to squawk out matching profanity and hide against the offending rays, her face buried in his chest.

He kissed the top of her head. “I’d love to stay here and see what lengths you’d take to avoid the sun, but we have a coach to catch, remember?”

“I remember,” she said, pulling back slowly, her hand splayed over her face. “It’s a good thing we didn’t pull the drapes; we might have overslept, but no alarm clock has anything on that sun.”

“Alarm clock?”

“Torture device from my world. Rings bells or plays an overly-obnoxious song when it’s time to get up, usually before sunrise,” Lilah said, kissing his jaw before rolling out of bed and bolting to the dresser to grab her tunic. “It’s so cold in here. I didn’t feel cold at all last night.”

Vilkas leered at her. “Funny how that works. Maybe we’ll have to test it out in the coach and see if we can stay warm on the road, too.”

After they were dressed, breakfasted, and provisioned for the day with a nosebag of cheese, apples, bread, and wine, plus a huge fur blanket to use in lieu of cloaks during the northern part of the trip, Vilkas and Lilah walked down the snowy road to the stables, stopping in their tracks when they saw several other passengers milling about, waiting for the driver.

“So much for keeping ourselves warm the old-fashioned way,” Lilah muttered, nudging Vilkas with her elbow. The would-be interlopers wore matching armor and cloaks decorated with swirling sigils. They watched Vilkas and Lilah with suspicious eyes, Lilah thought, goosebumps having little to do with the frigid air breaking out down her back.

“Vigilants of Stendarr,” Vilkas whispered in Lilah’s ear, and slowed their pace to keep out of earshot. “Stendarr’s disciples, sort of, but they’re mainly concerned with wiping out daedra and undead. Vampires destroyed their headquarters down the road a few years ago. They’re good, but a little fanatical in their goodness. And suspicious of everyone.”

He straightened as one of their number approached, his friends glowering at his back. “Where are you bound, strangers?” The blond man peered from under his hood, narrowed eyes taking in their homespun clothing and Vilkas’s naked sword.

“We’re bound for Whiterun, Jorrvaskr to be specific. Vilkas,” he said, extending an arm, “of the Companions.”

The man heaved a relieved sigh, grasping Vilkas’s forearm and shaking his head. “I thought you looked familiar. That explains it. You both reek of the undead, and we didn’t want trouble, but our calling leaves us no choice, if… but the Companions on official business, well, that’s another matter entirely.”

“Yes, very official,” Vilkas said, tapping the hilt of his sword. “And now that’s done, we’re just looking forward to getting home.”

“I know the feeling,” the Vigilant agreed, rubbing his arms with crossed hands to ward off the chilling wind. “You might remember our sanctuary’s destruction a few years ago, retaliation for our collaboration with the Dawnguard. We’re still putting it back together, and the silver mines here have been our reason for travel over the past few months. But yes, we’re looking forward to getting home, too.” He hesitated, and glanced over his shoulder before continuing, his voice a touch lower. “We appreciate the help of the Companions, particularly the Dovahkiin, during that trying time. I know we can seem like an ungrateful bunch of sticks in the mud, but without her, who knows what the vampires might have made of Skyrim. So, thank you.”

Lilah relaxed as he nodded in farewell and returned to his party, raising his hand to salute a man leading a stout horse toward the stable. Honorable they may be, and she had to admit this guy seemed fine, but fanaticism of any stripe made Lilah nervous – no good ever came of it in her world, not that she was aware, and she bet the same held true here. Suddenly, she wrinkled her nose and sniffed a bunch of her hair. “Wait,” she whispered, “did he just say we stink?”

Vilkas chuckled. “No, it’s some blessing from Stendarr I don’t pretend to understand. They can detect undead, the cursed, and those touched by daedra,” he said, lowering his voice to a whisper as well. “I had to avoid them like the plague way back when.”

Lilah wrinkled her nose again. “Oh,” she mouthed, remembering his erstwhile wolfy status. She barely held in a giggle – she’d had sex with a former werewolf. That’s something Claire Fraser never had to deal with. Willow Rosenberg, or Selene from Underworld, more like…

Soon enough, their fares paid, Lilah and Vilkas clambered into the high-sided coach and huddled together in a corner, their breath frosty over the fur blanket pulled up to their chins. Lilah felt her eyes start to close as they rambled down the road. They’d gotten enough sleep, passing out after dinner the night before, exhausted and entwined under the blanket. But Lilah’d never been an early riser, and the gentle swaying of the coach was soporific. She rested her head on Vilkas’s shoulder and closed her eyes, a faint pink staining her cheeks as she let her mind wander…

 

* * *

 

_She pulled him down, and his lips touched hers, softly. Once, twice, as he looked into her eyes. She ran her fingers through his cropped hair. “Why’d you cut yours so short? I think you’re the only Nord in Whiterun with short hair.”_

_“Some of the Redguard and Dunmer do, and it looked so easy to deal with. So I asked a sheep farmer to shear it, and I like it,” he said, placing his hand over hers and bringing it down between them. “Do you? Like it, I mean? Would you rather I grew it out? I might do come winter.”_

_She kissed his mouth again, her tongue slipping out to trace his upper lip. “Most men in my world don’t have long hair, so I’m used to it. I like yours, but I’m sure I’d like it either way,” she said, frowning and wiggling a little against him._

_“Are you uncomfortable? Should I adjust-“_

_“No, that’s not it at all. I just want...” she blushed a little and rolled her eyes, grinning. “Could we, ah, undress? Like, now?”_

_His heart pounded as he traced her neckline, her warm skin soft against his fingers. He buried his face in her hair, her clean, soapy fragrance intoxicating. Funny how something so simple turned his head around, these days. How had he managed without affection and lust and sex...for so long? “I’m pretty sure I can make that happen. I’m surprised you want to hurry things along, though.”_

_“I don’t.” Lilah sat up and pulled at the laces of his tunic, a playful pout curving her lips. “I want you all afternoon. All night, too, come to that, if we have the energy. I just want us to be naked the whole time. Doesn’t that sound better?”_

_“You don’t have to ask twice,” Vilkas said, rolling out of bed and dragging the fur blanket with him. “But we will need to move closer to the fire.”_

_As they knelt by the firepit on thick furs, Vilkas pulled his tunic off and tossed it back toward the bed. Lilah’s lower lip dropped as her eyes roamed over the broadness of his shoulders, the lean muscles of his arms. She flattened her palms over his chest and let her fingers play across wiry hair and raised scars. It had been too long since she'd seen such a sight. Touched...kissed. Moaning, she pressed her lips to a particularly wicked-looking slash above his sternum._

_Vilkas kissed her temple as he moved to divest her of her tunic, but Lilah grinned and yanked his leggings down instead. He laughed and lost his balance, tumbling with her down on the furs and kicking the leathers off the rest of the way. “It’s my turn now, you impatient little witch,” he said, running his hands down her back to cup her buttocks. She moaned again, sliding her bare hips against his and pressing her lips to the hollow above his collarbone as he slowly drew the hem of her tunic up. The rough linen tickled her skin as it moved past her waist._

_Vilkas tugged the tunic over her head and watched as she braced on her arms, shaking her hair back and smiling down at him. She was different from most Skyrim natives, he mused, one hand skimming her shoulders and brushing a rosy-tipped breast. Softer. She’d admitted life back in her world wasn’t physically demanding, and her body told that tale true. No hard muscles met his hands as they swept down her waist and kneaded the plump curves of her hips and buttocks. That would change the longer she was in Skyrim, as would her pale, smooth skin. But Vilkas burned for her body now, and couldn’t imagine a time when he wouldn’t._

 

* * *

 

Lilah’s eyes flew open as Vilkas unlaced her tunic under the blanket. She felt her cheeks burn pink, and hoped the other passengers wouldn’t notice. Or at least notice why, she thought, holding back a gasp as his warm hand grasped a breast, teasing the soft flesh and hardening her nipple to a stiff pebble.

She stole a glance out of the corner of her eye, and was amazed to see his face completely expressionless as he stared off into the distance, appearing to admire a stone ruin amid tall evergreens off the right side of the road. “Wh-what is that?” She stammered the question as he pulled her closer, his hand continuing its exploration of her breasts through her completely unlaced tunic. The sensation, as well as the accompanying naughtiness, was unbearably arousing.

“An ancient Nordic crypt,” he said. “Usually the resting place of either someone who did good things for Skyrim, or really bad things. I’ve been through some of the locked barrows with Gillian. For her duties as dragonborn. Lots of undead, tough to kill. Or re-kill, whatever. There was this one crypt, Labyrinthian…lousy with undead – draugr and ghosts. I still have a ghost sword in my quarters. It glows blue.”

“Like Sting,” Lilah mused, her breath catching as his other hand drifted up her thigh. “D-does it glow only in the presence of undead, or all the time?”

“All the time. What’s Sting?” Vilkas grinned at her. She was able to hold a conversation despite his ministrations. Well, he’d just have to step up his efforts. He began unlacing her leggings, and smiled as her cheeks reddened even more. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, the question he’d asked apparently forgotten.

Vilkas glanced over at the Vigilants, who were stirring, and strained to look around the driver to his right. He could see the thatched roof of the refurbished sanctuary just ahead. Good, he thought. He’d like a little more privacy with Lilah. Yesterday had been pretty much perfect, which only left him wanting so much more.

 

* * *

 

  
_Vilkas rolled out from under Lilah, sitting up to massage her shoulders as she lay prone, the left side of her body turning pink in the heat of the firepit. Lilah sighed and swept her hair over one shoulder to give him better access, feeling fire spark in her belly as he straddled her upper thighs, his erection brushing against the cleft of her buttocks. His hands turned her muscles to water. “You have great hands,” she said, wiggling against him._

_“It’s good you think so. There’s not going to be an inch of you these hands won’t touch today,” he rumbled, leaning down to kiss her neck, moving the hands in question around to stroke the sides of her breasts. She propped up on her elbows, and he cupped the soft globes, his fingers teasing her nipples. He sat back up and brushed his hands down her back, tracing lines from freckle to freckle. “Your freckles are cute,” he said, inching down between her knees. “Especially this one.” His finger stilled just above her right hip, and he leaned down and kissed the cinnamon-colored dot._

_"Please," she said, and glanced over her shoulder, her eyes dark and heavy-lidded. "I want to feel you, your body on mine."_

_Bracing his hands at her sides, he slowly stretched his body over hers and lowered to his elbows, kissing the nape of her neck as one hand wound around to her belly. "Like this?"_

_"Just like that," she said, panting and parting her thighs in response to his body settling against hers, rough against her softness. His fingers slid over her hips and she rocked back, feeling his silky-hard length pressed against the back of her thigh._

_His knee pushed her legs farther apart, and he smiled as she gasped and arched her back, lifting her hips to meet him. She was more enthusiastic than anyone he’d ever been with, although his number was modest, so he wasn’t sure if it was representative of Skyrim women as a whole. In any case, he enjoyed it and was eager to see just how ardent she could be. As he slid his fingers down between her legs, he encountered smooth skin, and stilled for a moment before stroking her, grinning as she pressed that silky softness into his hand. “Well, that_ is _different.”_

 _“I was wondering what you’d think when you discovered that,” she said, blushing over one shoulder. “I…well, I’ve never liked body hair.” Her eyes widened as he looked down at his own chest and back up, smirking. “No, on_ me _! It’s just a pain, and we have a way to get rid of it in my world, so I did. Um…surprise!”_

_Curious, he sat up between her legs again and pulled her thighs far apart, lifting her hips to see smooth, hairless skin. He'd never seen anything like it. "Did it...hurt?" He stroked her, exploring her rosy lips and slick entrance._

_"Yeah," she said, whimpering as he slid a finger inside, then two. She tightened around him as his fingers moved languidly within. "But it was absolutely worth it."_

_Vilkas wasn’t sure how much longer he could last before claiming her, but he took a deep breath and pulled his fingers back, replacing them with his tongue. She raised her hips even higher as his tongue swirled, licking and sucking until she gasped and moaned, finally pushing up and turning around, that gleam in her gray eyes a provocative challenge. “Vilkas,” she said, crawling on her knees and pushing him down on his back, “my turn.”_

 

* * *

 

  
With the Vigilants gone and the coach back on the main road, Lilah and Vilkas relaxed a bit, lowering themselves and the blanket to the floor. The high back of the driver's platform hid them completely from view, and Vilkas took advantage of their relative privacy and kissed her, tilting her head back and weaving his fingers through her hair. “Good thing those Vigilants couldn’t detect what I was thinking about you. About doing to you.”

She leaned against him and let her knee fall against his. “Their purity meters couldn’t handle it? What, do they live like monks?”

“There was never a polite way to ask, but I got that feeling, yeah.” Vilkas pushed the blanket aside and unlaced her leggings the rest of the way, tugging them down around her knees. When Lilah tried to return the favor, he batted her hands away. “Just relax and enjoy,” he said, kissing her mouth again, then lowering his head, his lips and fingers caressing breasts already swollen and aroused from his earlier teasing.

Gently waving trees underneath wispy, racing clouds met her gaze as she tried, unsuccessfully, to stay still. Hopefully the driver wouldn't be too terribly scandalized by what he might hear. Then again, Vilkas didn't seem bothered by the thought, so why should she? Gasping as his tongue flicked against her nipple, she frantically reached under the hem of his tunic, her hands searching for the warmth of his skin. Her nails gently raked across his back.

Vilkas felt a strange sense of calm. Yesterday's lovemaking had been fevered - first-time euphoria combined with months of drought led to hours of impassioned tumbling. They'd finally dropped to sleep in a languorous haze by the fire, their bodies sweetly sore. He'd carried her to bed in the wee hours of the morning, and had to fight the impulse to wake her, tempted by her reddened lips and flushed cheeks. But she'd needed sleep more than sex, and if he was being honest, so did he.

But now he was wide awake, and ready to take his time. Slowly, achingly, his fingers found the bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs, stroking it until Lilah moaned and kicked her leggings off, straddling him and capturing his mouth with hers. Her tongue caressed his own and once again, her ardor had his heart racing in his chest. He loved feeling her hips grind against him, loved how much she wanted him. But he had a plan.

Fighting for control, he nearly growled into her mouth, his teeth grazing her lips as he pulled away and deposited her, once again, on her back. She whimpered, a crooked smile forming on her lips as he gazed down at her. What a wanton she was. Tousled hair framing eyes wide and dark with need, plump breasts reddened by his kisses, her tunic bunched around her waist. _My wanton woman_. 

Grinning, he spread her legs as far as he could, and lowered his head.

The first lick had Lilah arching her back and gasping for sheer pleasure. His tongue explored every fold, dipping into her entrance and swirling around her clitoris. All gentleness abandoned, his beard scraped her silken skin as he devoured her, the friction setting her skin on fire. Two fingers slipped back and forth inside, and between Vilkas's efforts, it wasn’t long before she cried out in release, covering her face with both hands to muffle the noise.

Vilkas flopped down beside her and rested his head in the crook of her neck as she recovered, her breath and heartbeat slowing to a normal rate. She giggled and kissed him, tilting her head toward the front of the coach. “Do you think he heard that?”

He nodded. “I’m betting we haven’t been his only fares to put on a show. Don’t worry.”

Doing nothing to allay her concern, the driver called back. “We’re stopping for a break in a bit. Ten minutes or so. There’s a private shelter about twenty feet from the road. Right good spot for a, um…picnic!” He chuckled at his joke and nudged the horses to a quicker trot.

Lilah and Vilkas dissolved into giggles, and Lilah slipped her fingers under his waistband, feeling his muscles quiver at her touch. “My turn now?”

“Well, we do have ten minutes,” he said, as she unlaced his leggings and pulled him free, stroking him as he lay back on crossed arms. She pushed the furs aside, the southern sun’s warmth finally breaking through, and lay her head on his stomach.

Lilah loved sex, as a rule. Skin on skin, teeth and tongue, touching and kissing places that never saw the light of day. She grinned. The light of day certainly shone on all those places today. But sex with Vilkas...she felt so comfortable with him. And not yoga pants and unwashed face comfortable. But naked and wanton and needing to please him. Wanting him to enjoy her body in ways no one else had. And knowing he felt the same way. If that wasn't comfort, she didn't know what was.

She smiled as she took him into her mouth, encircling him with her lips, her tongue swirling around the tip of his erection until he groaned and buried his hands in her hair. Ten minutes, she mused, enjoying his silky hardness under her hand and the way he gently moved inside her mouth. She could feel his arousal and restraint. Feel his chest rise and fall, the pace quickening as time went on.

Too soon, the coach slowed as it rolled underneath a bower of tree branches, and before it could fully stop, Vilkas jumped down and pulled Lilah into his arms. He carried her, laughing and joyful, through the brush and over to a ring of stones peeking from the thick birch grove. “These are called the Weynon Stones. Tell you about 'em later,” Vilkas said, breathless, wrapping her legs around his waist and backing her up against an oblong stone monument.

With one swift thrust, he buried himself inside her, wrapping his arms around her back to protect it from the rough stone. Like he’d done yesterday in Jorrvaskr (had it really been just yesterday?), he pressed his lips to her neck, breathing in her scent.

Lilah raked her fingers down his back, and moved one hand between her legs, stroking as he drove into her, her arousal building and finally breaking. She grasped his head between her hands and kissed him, stealing his breath with a gasp as her second release exploded through her body. Her orgasm pulsed around him, her sheath impossibly tight, and Vilkas let go, his mouth crashing against hers as he came, his last thrust cresting inside her as he slowly stilled. "Lilah," he whispered into her hair. He wasn't sure if she heard. 

“That was…” Lilah began, as she relaxed, her head resting on Vilkas’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” he said, brushing her hair back from her face and kissing just below her jaw. “That was amazing. _You’re..._ amazing.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she said, quickly kissing his mouth. “And just think, we only had to cross universes to find each other.” She playfully kicked her bare feet as Vilkas set her down on a bier, and watched as he laced his leggings and adjusted his tunic. “This is a pretty strange place. I’m glad I didn’t notice those broken faces a few minutes ago.”

“I know. It’s mainly a shrine. To Talos, rather than Dibella, which would have been more appropriate. But Talos is the god of man, so I’m guessing he’d understand this better than most.”

“He should,” she said, sighing as she breathed cool, evergreen-scented air. “So how much longer until we get home?”

Vilkas flinched a little, tucking his leggings back into his boots. His heart fluttered. She’d never referred to Jorrvaskr as home before. “Should be around four or five hours.”

Lilah noticed movement out of the corner of her eye. “Good timing,” she said, noticing the driver wave a red cloth from the road, motioning them back.

After Lilah dressed and they ate lunch on the floor of the swaying coach, they snuggled together on the fur blanket and enjoyed the warm sun as Whiterun Hold creeped closer. “I can’t wait to see Maddy again,” Lilah said, hugging her arms to her chest. “Gillian told me in no uncertain terms that she was safe at Jorrvaskr with Farkas, but it’s hard being away after what happened.”

Vilkas frowned. He’d given the incident no thought at all since yesterday afternoon. With good reason. But time marched on, and the mystery of how they were snatched from his quarters slithered to the forefront of his mind. “Yeah. Farengar needs to hear about it. Immediately. If he has a theory about what in Oblivion is happening, this should help prove it,” he said, rolling onto his side and cradling her head on his bicep. “And yeah, seeing for ourselves that everyone is fine at Jorrvaskr would be better. Something got in to take us. It doesn’t make me feel good about security.”

Lilah yawned and nodded. “Hm, yeah. Just a few hours and we’ll be home. We’ll know,” she said, kissing him and rolling over, scootching back and cuddling against the curve of his body.

Vilkas lay next to her for a while and stewed, until the rocking of the coach and soothing summer breezes closed his eyes, and he slept, untroubled by dreams.

 

* * *

 

Grinning from ear to ear, Lilah ran around the Gildergreen, up the steps, and around Jorrvaskr to the verandah, her eyes peeled for her daughter. Farkas stood up from his table as he noticed her frantic search, Nina following suit, and motioned to a small practice dummy beneath the Skyforge. Lilah nodded and waved. “Maddy!”

“Mama!” The little girl dropped her sword and ran to her mom, enveloping the tearful woman in her tiny arms. “I spent the night with Argis and Gillian last night. We had a sleepover! They’re napping now.”

“Of course they are. Spending all night with a four year old is a heavy job,” Lilah said, running her hands over Maddy’s head and shoulders, looking for any sign of trauma. At first glance everything seemed ok, but she’d awoken alone, locked in a strange room. Who knew what trauma lurked under her childish resilience? “So, how are you feeling?”

Maddy opened her mouth to answer, but paused, her smile lighting her face as she saw Vilkas coming around the corner, laden with their pack and the heavy fur blanket. Lilah’s own smile faltered as Farkas strode down the steps toward Vilkas, his jaw clenched and his eyes strangely downcast. Why would Farkas not be overjoyed to see his brother return safely? And why had Maddy stayed the night at Breezehome? Not that she had anything against Argis and Gillian – far from it – but ...was something amiss in Jorrvaskr? She hugged Maddy and watched, warily, as Farkas slapped an arm around Vilkas’s shoulders and marched him up the stairs and inside.

Vilkas let his pack slide to the floor and stretched his shoulders, grinning. “It’s good to be home. Is everything –“ he began, but the doors had barely closed behind them when Farkas reared back and, for the second time in as many months, punched his brother in the face.


	18. Sometimes I Trip Over Your History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone makes mistakes, and most of us carry plenty of baggage. Vilkas's baggage is somewhat heavier than the norm. Can Lilah live with what she's learned? 
> 
> *Title from Dirty Laundry, by All Time Low

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about the long wait, but hopefully I'll make up for it with this super-sized chapter filled with drama, angst, and fluff. Also, anyone who read the previous chapter on the first day I posted it...I wasn't happy with it after a few readthroughs, so I revised the romantic scenes very heavily. If you weren't happy with it either, check the new version out. I think it's much better now.

 

Vilkas thrashed and fought for breath just under the surface of a dark, viscous pool. Light, somewhere above…piercing, blinding light. He clawed and blinked, but his eyelids stuck fast. Gasping for air, he finally broke through and propelled himself into searing, fevered wakefulness. Panic. Someone was in trouble. Who? Was it him? W _here am I? I can’t..._

The answer flitted through his mind. He knew, didn’t he? A tiny voice screamed the answer, a nagging tug deep, deep down. Almost there. Almost… 

Frustrated, he groaned, the roaring in his brain unbearable. He’d been to the ocean a few times, around Solitude, and marveled at waves crashing against the sea wall, and the screaming wind through caves dotting the cliffs. He’d always wanted to take another trip, to hear those sounds again. Not between his own ears, though.

But, what happened? A battle? An accident? He rolled his head to the side and the world exploded in a red, agonizing haze, coalescing into a painted hand, red and dripping blood.

 _Lilah_. The Sanctuary…were they still inside? Caught in some sort of trap?

No. He slapped a hand over his heart, willing it to calm. They made it out. They did, and then…snow. Fire. He smiled in spite of the pain, and his blood warmed. Windpeak Inn, waking up with Lilah curled in his arms. The whisper of her breath on his skin.

His hands brushed the covers on either side. No Lilah. Scents of leather and iron. Spilled ink and beeswax. His room, then. Jorrvaskr. After a few deep breaths, he forced his eyes open to stare at the beamed ceiling.

As his double vision resolved, so did his memory. A little, at least. Images of returning home and watching Lilah swing Maddy into a hug flooded his body with relief. Maddy was safe. Lilah’d been so worried. And then, Farkas…he hadn’t seemed upset at first, but…

Flashes of a giant fist zooming toward his face…had Farkas hit him? Again? A huge shape loomed above, and his brother’s face sharpened into focus. Angry, still…and worried. Vilkas pushed up on his elbows, but couldn’t sit. “D-“

The small sound clanged, setting his head to pound once more. He fell back on the pillow and tried again, slowly. “Did you…hit me?”

A nod, and raised eyebrows.

“Again?” Vilkas tried to imagine another punch-worthy offense he might have committed, but nothing came to mind. Of course his mind felt like a battlefield at the moment, so it wasn’t surprising. “Why?”

Farkas shook his head and dropped a small, red bottle on Vilkas’s stomach. “Not ready to talk yet. Danica was here, she left you this,” he said, and propped his brother up with several pillows. “Said to drink it when you wake, and the pain’ll go pretty quickly.”

Vilkas quaffed the potion, and lay back against the pillows, watching Farkas’s hands clench. _What did I do?_

Farkas answered his pleading eyes with rolling ones, and stalked out to the hallway, his heavy steps fading in the distance.

Shadows danced on the ceiling, cast by several candles throughout the room. Vignar and Kodlak used to manipulate the light and cast their own – shadow bunnies, birds, and dragons. Farkas loved watching them, and could stare for hours. Vilkas tried to duplicate their actions, and was quick to anger when his hands couldn’t replicate their artistry.

His brother didn’t anger without just and righteous cause – that hadn’t changed. _I must have hurt someone. That’s the only -_

Footsteps pattered down the hall. Not Farkas, the steps were much too light and quick. A creak at the door, and suddenly the room brightened as Lilah filled the threshold, her hair mussed and a blue knit shawl covering her long, linen nightgown. Vilkas’s heart thumped. _Beautiful_.

“It’s good to see you awake,” she said, leaning against the bed and running her hand over the fading bruise near his temple. “Maddy went to bed a few hours ago, and I fell asleep next to her, waiting. Farkas just woke me up.”

Vilkas shivered under her touch. She didn’t seem angry, but if what he’d done was so awful… “He shouldn’t have done that,” Vilkas said, shrinking under her withering look. “Although I’m glad to see you. He wouldn’t talk to me at all. How long was I out?”

“If your glass is correct, it’s a little after midnight. We got back at six-ish, so you’ve been out for quite a while. It’s ok. Danica healed you somewhat, said you’d sleep for awhile.”

“Yeah, Farkas said she’d been here. I just drank the potion she left. It helped.” Silence fell, and Vilkas sighed. Better get it over with. “So why are you here?”

“What…why shouldn’t I be here?”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Vilkas scrubbed his palms down his face, appalled at himself as her eyes shuttered. Did he want to chase her away? “Gods. My head doesn’t hurt anymore, but it’s hard to think straight. Farkas wouldn’t tell me what I’d done to warrant a punch. Another punch,” Vilkas clarified. “Do you know? It must be something terrible, but I can’t for the life of me…”

Lilah smiled as his voice trailed off. She climbed up on his bed and sat, legs crossed. Vilkas handed her one of his pillows to rest in her lap. “You made a mistake,” she said, huffing a little, but grinning. “Most definitely a mistake. But aside that, I’m not going to judge. If I know you, you’ll beat yourself up enough when you find out.”

“Well, don’t leave me in suspense,” he said, closing his eyes and preparing for the worst. Lilah was smiling, though. Maybe it wasn’t so bad.

“I’ll tell you what Farkas told me,” she said, squeezing her pillow against her chest. “But don’t be too hard on yourself. Everyone makes mistakes, and you might finally learn from this one.”

 

* * *

 

 

_Where could Vilkas have gone? How did they get out through a locked door? He and Lilah would never have left Maddy alone._

Farkas’s after-lunch rumination wasn’t good for his digestion at all. They’d tried to keep the morning’s disappearance a secret, but too many people saw Masly kick in Vilkas’s door, and Maddy’s scared, little-girl cries for her mother had every whelp in Jorrvaskr clamoring to protect their tiny mascot from danger. Everyone worried, and as a consequence, afternoon training was a disaster.

So most of the whelps had gone out to the woods with Aela to hunt, leaving just a few to practice marksmanship in the training yard. They’d switch places later, and wouldn’t be stuck at Jorrvaskr dwelling on the possibilities which, according to the whelps, were legion.

The most ridiculous was a whispered conversation suggesting Alduin had come back to life and sworn revenge on the Dovahkiin by taking them all, one by one, back to his lair. The two whelps had been morbidly fascinated by the idea, wondering when it would be their turn to see the World-Eater’s trophies and stand in the presence of such a legend.

Farkas snorted, then chuckled at their blushes once they realized their theory’d been overheard. Young whelps tended to forget he’d fought Alduin once, and Gillian had told him all about Skuldafn. The land of the living was much more attractive, thanks.

He watched Masly hit two bullseyes in a row, and turned to pick up his own bow when the door opened. Farkas did a double take. Was that the jarl’s mage? What’s his name…Farengar? The one who’d hid under his magic table during the battle of Whiterun? Farkas hadn’t spoken to him in years. He’d seen him in passing, sure, up at the palace, but the two didn’t move in the same circles, one might say.

Another way to put it was that Farkas yearned to punch the smug expression off Farengar’s face. The mage strode out onto the verandah like he owned the place, leading a young, robed boy carrying several thick books over to a long table.

“Put them down there, Marcus, and go back inside while someone locates the Harbinger. Touch nothing, do you hear me?” Farengar waited until the door shut behind the boy to acknowledge Farkas’s presence.

“My apprentice. Curious type, and…” he tossed his head. “Why am I explaining myself to you? Anyway…where’s the Harbinger? Your housekeeper said he wasn’t in at the moment, and I’d find his second in command out here. She seemed strangely agitated when I asked, actually.”

Farkas stared at him, unsure how much he should divulge. “Tilma’s right. Vilkas is out, and I don’t know when he’ll be back. Anything I can do for you?” He fervently hoped not.

“Normally I would demur, but this is no an ordinary situation,” he said, and sighed again, lowering the blue cowl of his robes. “There’s no easy way to say this. Your brother has caught the attention of a daedric lord. He asked me for help in the matter, and I’ve been looking into it. If my suspicions are correct, he has need to be concerned. It’s…“

“Mephala,” Farkas said, his eyes narrowed, completely oblivious that he’d just ruined Farengar’s dramatic pause. How did the mage know about this? Gillian had just gotten the message from Paarthurnax that morning. “We know, but-“

“Well, then,” Farengar said, his nostrils flaring and cheeks pink, “since I have no news to impart, you can examine these for all the gory details. If you can even read, that is.” He stacked the heavy books in Farkas’s arms and started to flounce away.

“Wait,” Farkas said, after a moment’s struggle. Farengar was insufferable. But if he knew something that would help… “What did I say? And how do you know about this? We just found out this morning. Paar-“

Farengar stopped, his back ramrod straight, and spun on his heel. “Paarthurnax is involved, you say?”

 _Like a dog with a bone._ Farkas nodded and placed the books back on the table, the titles catching his eye. _Darkest Darkness, Fire and Darkness. Brothers of Darkness_? What had Vilkas gotten himself into? He lowered himself onto a bench and poured a goblet of wine, taking a large swallow. “Can you start from the beginning? And can I get you anything?”

Farengar declined with a wave of his hand and sat, studying Farkas, his eyes flicking over the worry lines and clenched jaw. “Your housekeeper seemed agitated when I mentioned the Harbinger. And you too…you’re upset as well,” he said, his eyes flashing at the guarded expression creeping across Farkas’s face. “Is something wrong? Something…else?”

“Vilkas disappeared sometime this morning,” Farkas said after a moment. He rubbed the back of his neck and stretched it out. “He was seen before dawn walking into his quarters. And then nothing.”

“Are you sure that’s an emergency situation? Maybe he’s just out hunting or whatever you warriors like to do before dawn. Instead of sleeping, like normal people, that is.”

“He disappeared from behind a locked door, leaving his key behind. Does that sound ordinary? Someone…someone else disappeared with him,” Farkas reluctantly divulged. “And they left a small child behind, alone. Vilkas wouldn’t have done that. Nor would the child’s mother.”

“Vilkas disappeared with the child’s mother?” Farengar considered, tapping his lips with a finger. “This wouldn’t be the dragonborn’s cousin, would it?”

Farkas started to shake his head, but turned it into a nod, remembering how they’d explained Lilah’s presence in town. Gillian’s cousin from High Rock. “Yeah. Lilah. She and Vilkas are…”

“I know. Isn’t it adorable,” Farengar snorted.

“You seem to know a lot,” Farkas said. “I didn’t know you and my brother were close enough to discuss his relationships.” He wondered what else Vilkas was hiding.

“We’re not. This is strictly business. You requested that I start from the beginning? Well, if your brother and his lady love are missing, that adds even more credence to my theory. One more nail in the coffin, so to speak, and I’ll know for sure.”

Farkas raised his eyebrows. He didn’t know anything about Mephala, and those books got thicker every time he glanced their way. It pained him to think it, but Farengar really was his best option. “Ok. Shoot.”

“Delightful,” Farengar sneered, his confidence rebounding. He still had the upper hand. “I want no interruptions. What I have to tell you will either confuse you or make you angry, or both, and I must be allowed to get through it all before you start firing questions my way. Understood?”

Farengar cleared his throat, just about to dive in, when the doors to Jorrvaskr flew open and crashed against the walls. The mage groaned, looking over his shoulder as a blond giant strode to their table. “Can you tell him to leave?”

“No,” Farkas growled. Farengar might have information he needed, but damned if he’d sit back and allow him to treat his friends so rudely. “That’s the dragonborn’s husband, Argis. Have you met?”

Farengar stood after a momentary hesitation, and held out his hand.

Argis shook it and sat down. “Charmed,” he said, and turned to Farkas, ignoring Farengar’s splutter. “Vilkas is safe. Lilah’s safe. Somewhere to the north, not sure where. Gillian’s at the temple.”

Farkas took a deep breath, and was about to exhale in relief when he noticed Argis’s tight jaw and high color. A chill ran down his spine. “At the temple? Why-“

Argis spared a look for Farengar, and when Farkas nodded, he continued. “She’s hurt. Lilah-“

“Wait, how did Gilly know her _cousin’s_ safe? And what’s wrong?” Farkas cut his eyes toward Farengar and back to Argis, raising his eyebrows a little too high.

“What happened,” Argis said, grinning at Farkas’s too-obvious attempt at subterfuge, “and why Gilly’s hurt are one in the same. Lilah can speak with the mind voice. Like Gilly. Like Paarthurnax.”

“The dragonborn can…her _cousin_ can-“ Farengar practically bubbled with excitement. “Does this mean-“

“I don’t think so,” Farkas said, pursing his lips. “But maybe, you never know.” He tried to give Argis a ‘just go with it’ sort of look. They needed Farengar, and the simplest answer would serve for now. “But what about Gilly?”

“Whatever Lilah did was too powerful. It flattened Gilly. Exhausted her mind. She’s unconscious. Danica assured me she’d be ok, but…” Argis poured a glass of mead and took a long sip, staring out in the direction of the temple.

Farengar cleared his throat, and seemed to shrink as both men stared him down. “Um,” Farkas began, trying to reassure himself that everyone he loved would be fine, and home. Soon. “Vilkas knew something was up, Argis. He’d asked Farengar to help figure out what was after him. The mage here was just starting to fill me in.” Farkas motioned to Farengar to continue.

“Please do,” Argis said in his sonorous voice. “We appreciate any wisdom you can impart.”

Farkas grinned, despite his worries. Argis looked like, as Lilah liked to say ‘a scruffy colossus,’ whatever that was, but he spoke with the voice of a bard. Farengar’s suspicious expression upon listening to Argis’s diction and vocabulary was entertaining.

“Very well,” Farengar said, slightly mollified. “Remember, no interruptions.” He paused until both men nodded again, and rolled his eyes as Farkas made a buttoning motion over his lips. “After Kodlak died, your brother went on a bit of a bender, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

“No?” Farengar asked, noticing Farkas’s blank stare. “Can’t say I’m surprised, given what I know about this situation and you don’t. Bit of a control freak, your brother.”

“You don’t say,” he and Argis chimed in, together.

“His grief took him to Riften, ostensibly on a job, but instead ended up drunk in a disreputable part of town. Long story short: he ran afoul of the Dark Brotherhood. Stole one of their kills,” Farengar said, holding up a palm to forestall Farkas’s objection. “Rest assured, the mark was someone who needed killing. Not usual for the Brotherhood, but in this case… there were children involved. Abuse. What Vilkas did was understandable.”

Kodlak’s death had affected both brothers, and Farkas had his share of drunk nights and regrets. By the gods, everyone had. Except Vilkas, who’d simply disappeared for days at a time. And then he’d come home and disappear into his new quarters. But never once had Farkas seen Vilkas out of control. It hurt, that Vilkas thought he had to hide his grief from his family. He slowly nodded and motioned for Farengar to keep going.

“When the Brotherhood found out, they kidnapped Vilkas and tried to force him to join. But Vilkas being Vilkas, decided to exterminate the entire organization instead,” he said, looking from Argis to Farkas expectantly. Silence. “What, no questions? Your brother infiltrated the Brotherhood’s sanctuary in Falkreath and killed every last fucking one of those assassins, single-handed.”

“You said no interruptions, right?” Farkas looked at him with a frown, only slightly amused at the mage’s loss of composure. His own composure was slipping, too. “Go on.”

“As I was saying,” Farengar said, clearing his throat, disappointment written on his face. “Vilkas took out the Dark Brotherhood. As far as we know, they don’t exist in Skyrim anymore. But, it came with a cost. Voices whispering in his mind, urging him to kill. Telling him his friends were untrustworthy. You, the Dovahkiin. Anyone and everyone was suspect. At first, he thought it was just the aftereffects of dealing with the Dark Brotherhood. There were similar whispers throughout the sanctuary. Eventually, it stopped, and Vilkas assumed the worst was over.”

“But lately,” Farengar said, opening one of the books to a picture of a strange creature, “the whispers started up again. Doubts, suspicions.” The mage glanced at Farkas. “You don’t seem surprised. Had you seen evidence of this?”

Farkas nodded, swallowing hard. “He suspected Lilah of…” His voice trailed off. Vilkas _had_ been acting strange, but he thought it was just the episode with the enchanted dagger. Those mages on the island. His feelings for Lilah. _I should have realized._

“That fits. Because he started hearing the whispers in his dreams. Disturbing dreams featuring none other than your wife’s cousin.” He nodded to Argis. “Vilkas related the dreams, and admitted he felt romantic feelings toward her.”

Farengar pointed to the creature on the page. “This is what Lilah looked like in the dream.”

Argis studied it. “A spider atronach?”

“Yes, a spider atronach,” Farengar said, narrowing his eyes. “The Harbinger described the fangs, the hair, the signs of decay and poison around the mouth, the violently seductive nature…exactly. In the dreams, Lilah attempted to hurt him. And as the dreams progressed, she eventually did, driving a sword through his gut. A very particular sword. The pieces started to fall into place.”

“I get that the spider atronach is a Mephala thing, webspinner and all that,” Argis said, scratching his beard. He’d studied the various aspects of daedra lords at the Bard’s College. Stories and songs in that vein were popular. “But what does Mephala have to do with the Dark Brotherhood?”

“Everything,” Farengar said, and his eyes flashed with excitement. He closed that book and opened the two others, pointing at relevant passages. “When my brothers and I were at Winterhold, we became fascinated with daedra, as most young mages do. One Dunmer wrote a thesis on the relationship between the Dark Brotherhood and Morag Tong, and theorized that the Night Mother of the Brotherhood was none other than Mephala. These two books explore that theory in greater detail. I won’t go into it now, but I can leave these here if you like.”

“Your brother described the voices to me, and was sure the Night Mother had possessed him, somehow. That she’d attached herself to him in the sanctuary, and was speaking to him. Now, if the Night Mother was who the Brotherhood believed, that’s just not possible. A woman who died ages ago, the bride of Sithis. Now, Sithis is simply another name for the Void. Non-corporeal. And people who are dead don’t speak to us. Except in rare cases through their spirits, but that’s not what this was about. The only beings who could accomplish what Vilkas reported are Aedra. Or in this case…Daedra,” Farengar declared, satisfied with the stricken looks on the warriors’ faces. “And even then, an artifact is necessary. An interface, if you will.”

It took great effort on Farkas’s part to stay calm during Farengar’s tale. Vilkas had a habit of doing things alone, taking too much on himself, and keeping too many secrets, but this? He and Gilly had blasted Vilkas when they found out he’d gone to Solitude to threaten Elisif. Yes, she’d tried to assassinate Gillian, but...

No one needed to shoulder that kind of burden alone, and Vilkas promised it was the last time. Farkas let his eyes drift around the training yard, emotions swirling in his chest, his mind. These whelps and the welfare of Skyrim were his responsibility. His and Vilkas’s. Their legacy, as it had been Kodlak’s legacy. How had Vilkas so thoughtlessly put it all in this much danger?

“So if you need an artifact…where is it? It wasn’t that other dagger,” Argis mused aloud, his voice startling Farkas out of his own somber musings. “That’s been gone for awhile, and it wasn’t here last year, when the voices started.”

“Astute question,” Farengar said, forgetting his admonition against interruptions. “There is an artifact here. I would bet every shred of magicka I possess. You weren’t here just before Kodlak died.” Farengar nodded in Argis’s direction. “So I’ll ask the twin, here, to elaborate on the details later. But…”

He turned to Farkas, his brow furrowed. “Remember the incident with the…” he lowered his voice and glanced over his shoulder. No one within earshot. “The jarl’s son? Mephala’s Ebony Blade?”

After a moment’s thought, a light went off behind Farkas’s blue eyes. Mephala’s blade. It had poisoned the boy’s mind, told him to use it against his sister, his father, people he loved. It…

Farkas covered his face with his hands and bowed his head.

“Yes. That’s what’s been speaking to Vilkas all this time,” Farengar said, nodding gravely. “The Webspinner has been biding her time, waiting for her chance at revenge for the two insults your brother leveled at her. He destroyed the Dark Brotherhood. He ruined her chances to upend Dragonsreach and destroy the jarl’s entire family in the process. And I suppose, three: he hid the Ebony Blade instead of nourishing it in the blood of those he loved best, despite Mephala’s best efforts,” he said, enjoying Argis’s rapt expression.

“Enter the lovely Lilah. Her angst-ridden warrior handed himself to Mephala on a plate. She gets great pleasure from interfering in romance, and love…well, it makes you more vulnerable than anything of which I’m aware,” Farengar said, staring into the air with a wistful look.

Argis cleared his throat, and the mage continued. “When the suspicion first arose in my mind, I thought to myself, I thought: surely Vilkas wouldn’t be stupid, arrogant, or foolhardy enough to keep that sword close to him all this time, knowing what it does. But it seems I was wrong. Do you know where it is?”

“He told me he took care of it,” Farkas said in a low, nearly feral voice. Farengar’s eyes widened as he stood, his fists clenching at his sides, shaking with the effort it took to keep himself together. “That he put it where it would hurt no one. He…I will rip this place apart, but I will find that blade.”

Argis stood up, realizing Farkas was about to blow. He picked up the books and motioned for Farengar to stand as well. “Would you mind assisting us in searching for the blade? Your magical artifact detection skills are no doubt more honed than ours, and even though he’s mad now, I’m sure he’d rather not tear his entire home apart,” he said, leading the mage behind Farkas, and into Jorrvaskr. Argis’s tone was light, but his face was grim. “Just Vilkas’s quarters.”

 

* * *

 

  
“Shit.” Vilkas lifted his head. He looked around the room, just noticing in the dim candlelight that things weren’t where he remembered them. His wardrobe was tossed, and his bed was…his bed wasn’t usually shoved against the wall. “Judging from the state of my room, I’m guessing they found it.”

“Uh-huh,” Lilah said, “right where you hid it. Under your bed, in a locked chest.” She hugged the pillow to her stomach, uncrossing and crossing her stiffening legs. “You hid an enchanted sword that whispers to people under your bed, and you never thought it might be the source of the voices you were hearing? The things that sword was capable of…Farkas told me what happened with the jarl’s kid, Vilkas. That’s some sc-“

“I know. Shit. I- I forgot about that sword.” He thought back to his second Lilah-dream, where she’d shoved a black sword through his gut. The Ebony Blade. So fucking obvious, now. Where had his head been this year? “I meant to do something else with it, secure it better. Truly. But then Kodlak died, and everything went to…and then the mess with the Dark Brotherhood, and Markarth, and those mages...”

“Well,” Lilah said, nodding. “I know what state your mind is in, how much you’ve had on it, so I understand. I just can’t-“

“I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes staring into hers. He was lucky she was speaking to him at all. “I put you in danger. You and Maddy slept in this bed. What could have-“

“Yeah, that’s the first thing that came to mind, of course. My child, in here alone with that sword. The morning we disappeared. I’ve been trying my damndest to keep thoughts like that out of my head, but they do like to creep in, the ‘what-ifs.’ That was my first thought, but my second?” She glared down at him, and then softened at his abashed look. It was tough to hit a man when he was already down. “You told Farkas you took care of the sword. You put it where it couldn’t hurt anyone. Aren’t you someone, Vilkas? Don’t you count? Shouldn’t you be safe, too?”

Vilkas said nothing, and lay back on his pillow, staring up at the ceiling. _Just get it over with. Say you’re leaving. Say you don’t trust me anymore. Just..._

“We talked about you taking too much on yourself, carrying burdens never meant for you, Vilkas, remember? This is wh-“

“But that was…I did this before. You can’t-“

“No, I’m not holding this against you. I wouldn’t anyway. It’s just a sample, one of those things you can’t do anymore. Especially not now,” she said, scooting back against the wall and stretching her legs out in front of her. For all her words of bravery, she had no idea how to tell him what she had to say. What would he think of her? “I told you before, everyone makes mistakes. I…” she bit her lip and hugged the pillow even tighter against her chest. “I made a huge one, back in Dawnstar.”

 _There it is_. Vilkas looked at the curves of her legs with a pang of sadness and tried to find the courage to take her rejection like a grownup. He’d known it was a possibility. While she told the story, he wanted to take her and hold her, stroke her hair while she talked, but wasn’t sure that would be welcome anymore.

He definitely screwed up. Pain gripped his stomach, and he fought to keep its meager contents where they belonged. “I thought you might feel that way. I understand, you know, and I don’t hold you to anything, and I won’t try to change your mind.”

Lilah stared at him for a moment, and it finally dawned on her what Vilkas meant, what he thought was happening. “No,” she said, trying to keep from shouting. It was the middle of the night, after all. “No! You idiot, that’s not what I meant.” She threw her pillow down and crawled over on bent knees, kissing his mouth gently and wiping a welling tear from one eye.

Vilkas’s heart thudded in relief, and he crushed her body to his as she threw back the covers and slid between the sheets with him, burying her face in his chest.

“Hey,” she said, after a minute or two, peeking further down and running her hands around to his warm back. “You’re naked.”

“You’re not,” he said, slipping his hand under her nightgown and resting it on her bare hip. “Not enough, anyway.”

She slapped his hand away and rolled him onto his back, resting her chin on his chest, a playful gleam in her gray eyes. “We have to get the rest of this talk out of the way, and then we’ll see.”

Vilkas held her tight, enjoying the warmth of her leg entwined with his own, the sweet smell of her silky hair. She could talk the night away and he’d listen, captivated and enchanted, just as long as she was still his. Honestly, with the shape his head was in, talk and sleep and warm embraces might be the best he could offer. “So what was your mistake if it wasn’t…me?”

“I hurt Gillian,” she said, staring down at his chest. “Remember in that creepy sanctuary? How I knew Maddy’s and my parents’ ghosts were fake? Somehow, I got a message to Gillian using some weird telepathy or whatever, and she was able to send a message back. Right?”

Vilkas tipped her chin up. “What was all that talk about judging? You can look at me.”

“Whatever I did overtaxed her mind. She was in the temple for hours, with Danica. We’ve kept her pretty busy over the past few days,” she said with a sad smile, but kept her eyes on his. “I lashed out. Yeah, I was freaked out and terrified Maddy was dead, but I lashed out with all my power, not caring about anything other than my daughter’s safety. Maybe it’s understandable, but I still hurt Gillian. My friend. What if…I could have killed her, and…Argis…” Tears really did fall this time at the thought of Argis without Gillian. Argis mourning and grieving a love he’d just barely begun to explore. It was too much.

Vilkas wiped her eyes with a corner of the blanket. “I stored an enchanted, malicious sword in Jorrvaskr for over a year. I went on a suicide run and destroyed the Dark Brotherhood on my own, attracting the attention of a Daedra who likes to make friends and lovers and family kill each other,” he said, his eyebrows crinkling at little. “Hey, time out: did Farengar say anything about the dagger? Was the dagger somehow related to the sword? Did he say?”

Lilah shook her head. “No. He said no daggers are associated with Mephala. And Gillian…” she swallowed hard, still preoccupied by the worst that could have happened. “Gillian told Farkas earlier that day that what’s after me isn’t a daedric lord, anyway.” She looked up at Vilkas’s puzzled expression. “Right. Gillian got a message from Paarthurnax the morning we were taken. God, that was just yesterday. Hard to believe, right?”

Vilkas nodded. It seemed like a lifetime ago. “But Gillian’s ok now, right?”

“No thanks to me.”

“No more of that,” Vilkas said, pulling one hand up to his lips and kissing her knuckles. “You said we both made mistakes, and have lessons to learn, right? That’s one, one I know all too well. Guilt’ll kill you, Lilah. Tomorrow, we’ll go see Gillian, bring her pastry and a huge bag of her favorite coffee beans, and apologize. Profusely. It’s all we can do. That, and be thankful one tiny mistake wasn’t a lot more costly. Because that’s all it was. One, small, and yes, understandable mistake.”

Lilah thought for a minute. “And you, too. You’re not on your own anymore. Neither am I. Farkas told me about your habit of acting like some mythical lone wolf.” She looked up at him, smirking. “I didn’t let on I knew about the real wolf thing, by the way. Anyway, he said it with derision. He said ‘my brother broods with the skill of the finest bard,’” she said, laughing a little. “I think he enjoyed tearing your room apart, you know. And I’m pretty sure he enjoyed punching you. Although he regrets it now.”

“He’s been warning me about that for years, just like you did in Dawnstar. Assuming I know what’s best for everyone, and yes, brooding,” he said, scrubbing his face in his hands. Lilah’d come so far, so fast. It was hard to believe little more than a month ago, he had no idea she even existed. And she thought magic and dragons and everything else in Skyrim was something from a story. “I don’t deserve-“

Lilah popped up and loomed over him, wagging her finger close to his face. “Oh, no, Vilkas. No. We both made mistakes this time, and if you’re planning on telling me that you don’t deserve me, that you’re setting me free, well. No. You’ve got another think coming,” she said, her eyes shimmering with silver. Vilkas smiled at her with amusement and more than a little bit of awe. She didn’t notice, and continued her rant. “You may have something to say about what’s best for me, but so do I, and if I’m going to be stuck in this weird fantasy world, you’re stuck with me. You don’t get to just lea-“

“Ok, I’m going to stop you there,” Vilkas said, sitting up and taking her face in his hands. Her lips softened as he kissed her, one last indignant squawk fading into a sweet sigh. “As magnificent as you are when you’re fired up…” he sat back and looked into her eyes. The silver had faded to her normal, quiet gray. “Leaving was my first thought, I admit. Old habits die hard. I leave. I escape, that’s just what I do,” he said, shaking his head a little as he remembered Riften, and Solitude, and a few other times he’d gone off on his own, manufacturing danger that shouldn’t have existed. All the stupid…he owed Farkas an apology, and much more. He’d make things right. He would. “But you’re right. I made a mistake. I’ll pay for it, make up for it. No more leaving, I promise.”

She sighed and pulled him back down on the pillows, kissing him once more, long and soft and deep. That heady mix of comfort and desire spun her head around. She melted against him, her skin craving his. “I can’t stay long, I don’t think.” She spoke the words, and meant them, but the idea of leaving his bed was inconceivable, now. She forced herself to be realistic. “Maddy…”

Vilkas ran a finger down her cheek and kissed a freckle next to her lip. He nodded. “I know. And we both need sleep. But tomorrow we’re going to get my room cleaned up and do something about those sleeping arrangements, if you don’t mind.”

Lilah lay her head back down and felt his chest rise and fall. He wanted to claim her, publicly. Everyone would know. She sighed, feeling a swarm of butterflies take flight in her belly. God, she was in trouble. What was she so afraid of? _Was_ she afraid? She should be. A big step, even in her own world, and she’d only been at Jorrvaskr a little over a month.

She closed her eyes and listened to his heartbeat. Felt his warm, scarred skin under her cool fingers. His heartbeat quickened, and she blinked. He caught her wandering hand down by his hip and held it fast, his eyes still asking the question, and searching hers for her answer.

Did she mind? Was this life something she could settle into? A smile played across her lips, and she saw it all. Her future, her’s and Maddy’s: a comfortable room where she could make potions and learn her craft, tending to illness and injury, healing and strengthening those who needed her help. Vilkas nearby, cursing over ledgers and letters. In between lavish and abundant kisses, of course. Maddy growing tall and strong, mastering the bow. Maybe the potions table, like her mom. Or maybe even the sword, like her…like the man who could easily step into the role of her father.

Lilah’s heart raced, and she could feel Vilkas’s hands burning into hers, but she wasn’t finished, and she had to see it through. Her vision. Vilkas and Maddy bundled in fur, playing in the snow, snow as tall as Maddy’s shoulders. Farkas and Argis joining in, tossing her between them as easily as a snowball.

Summer…a year from now. She and Vilkas walking hand in hand down to the village square, wreaths of flowers in their hair and Lilah’s green silk dress as lovely as it had been the first time she’d seen it in Solitude. Fit for a queen.

Oh, the things he made her feel.

She wasn’t scared, she realized. She was excited, and hopeful. She was _thrilled_.

And it was a fantasy, of course. It wouldn’t be all kisses and laughter, but what life was? Trouble would find them again. Those mages still needed sussing out and eliminating, and how she wielded her magic was still a mystery. Power, she had in spades. Control…well, that remained elusive. But, no matter.

Finally, she opened her eyes and smiled up into his. Relief, naked and unashamed washed across his face, and he rolled her onto her back, his lips capturing hers, teasing and tasting in equal measure.

Lilah wrapped her arms and legs around him, pulling him down. She needed his weight on hers, needed his skin on hers, inside and out. “Please…I need…”

Her nightgown flew up and over her head with a speed she didn’t know was possible, and finally, nothing existed between them. Not even air. Vilkas wrapped one arm around her torso, crushing her body to his. With the other hand, he held her hips steady while he slid inside, moving slowly and savoring every second.

When he was sheathed to the hilt, he looked into her eyes and rose up on bent knees, pulling her with him, her thighs splayed over his. With every thrust, he pulled her tighter and delved deeper, setting Lilah’s body on fire. It spread, a blush that crept up from her belly to her breasts, darkening her pink nipples to a deep rose.

Vilkas smiled and stretched his thumbs down to the bundle of nerves between her legs. He teased and stroked, his hands still pulling her hips, matching his every masterful stroke with a thrust, deep and slow and steady.

She lay there, under his gaze, her fingers digging into the sheets. He was so beautiful, his skin bronze in the candlelight and lean muscles dappled by shadow. Forest-green eyes never leaving her own, dark with desire and reflecting…what she saw set her heart racing. She saw everything – everything her vision promised and more. And she saw herself, her own beauty in the eyes of her lover taking her breath away.

For a moment, she stilled, barely able to move. Her body seemed to contract, and coil into an impossibly small space, the spiral tightening, twisting. Oh, the tension...her back arched until she thought she'd jump out of her skin. Breathe, she commanded herself, but she couldn’t. _Breathe_ …

Suddenly, she could. Breath exploded from her lungs and she saw stars, burning bright and whirling in the infinite black behind her eyes.

And then his weight returned to hers, anchoring her to the earth, keeping her from spinning away to lose herself among those blazing stars.

One last gasp and he stilled, as deep within her as he’d ever been, and the world flipped upside down. When Lilah opened her eyes, she found herself back on his chest, her head resting in the crook of his neck. She could feel his jumping pulse on her mouth. One kiss, his blood racing under her lips, and her eyes closed once more.

After Vilkas recovered, feeling his heartbeat slow to a normal rate, he meant to rouse Lilah. To dress her and carry her back to her room for one last night apart. Never again, he thought fiercely, his arms tightening around her. Damn her world’s extended courtship and all its complications. She was his…and would always, always be.

With those delicious thoughts adrift in his mind, his eyes grew heavy. One more kiss, he’d bargained with himself. Just one more… but his eyelids fell, the exhaustion of that long day a ponderous weight upon them, and they stayed closed.

And when the sun rose the next day, nudging the world out into another beautiful summer morning, Jorrvaskr burst into motion as always. But Lilah and Vilkas slept on.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've not read Sun on Stone, Argis's history with the Bards' College is discussed in several of the chapters, as well as Elisif and Gillian's bad blood. Basically, after Gilly rid the world of Alduin, Elisif and Tullius found her no longer useful, and also a threat to their joint rule of Skyrim, so they tried to have her killed.


	19. Throw The Man You Used To Be Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vilkas and Lilah deal with the consequences of their actions, and start planning for the future. 
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter title from “The Moth,” by Manchester Orchestra

Jorrvaskr’s front door creaked, loud in the early morning silence. Farkas winced and stepped inside, his head spinning with a sudden exhaustion that hit him like a pile of stone. After leaving Vilkas to face the music with Lilah, he’d stormed out and run a few laps through town, trying to calm down and clear his head. A mug of ale at Breezehome and half an hour of venting with Gillian had helped.

But now, the long day caught up with him, and his head and heart felt heavy. He wasn’t looking forward to tomorrow’s gloomy reality – Lilah and Vilkas surely would be on the outs. He and Vilkas would be, still. So much conflict, and tension hanging thick as the mists of Blackreach all around the hall.

As Farkas walked into his room and turned to shut the door, a flash of movement caught his eye. His brother’s door still hung ajar, and candlelight burned inside, its dying flame casting stark, acrobatic shadows on the walls.

Was Vilkas still awake? A quick peek inside answered that question in the negative. His brother lay turned toward the wall, curled up on his side. Facing the door, her back against Vilkas’s and her auburn hair fanned out across her pillows, was Lilah.

He bumped his head against the door jamb and huffed, shock running down his spine like a spark. Earlier that evening, Lilah’d listened to Farkas’s account of Vilkas and the Ebony Blade without censure or excuse. She’d been stunned, but quiet, as Farkas explained what Vilkas had done. That her child had been left alone with a deadly daedric artifact. And that Vilkas had allowed it to happen.

She’d been upset, naturally, but not as angry as Farkas had anticipated. Maybe she’d been preoccupied by his description of Gillian’s injuries – the unintended consequences of her own undisciplined power. Farkas had never seen anyone’s face drain of color so quickly. She’d barely made it to the basin on the dresser before puking her guts up.

Even so, he’d expected Lilah to turn Vilkas away, to admit she couldn’t trust him anymore, and end their fledgling relationship. Farkas didn’t blame her. The woman had a lot to wrap her head around: finding her way in a strange universe, deciphering her own unique magical abilities, figuring out who kept trying to kidnap her.

Living with a man who took boneheaded, unnecessary risks just seemed…well, like another boneheaded, unnecessary risk.

But Lilah must have forgiven his brother. Farkas smiled, grateful and amazed. He’d never known Vilkas to sleep beside a woman. Literally sleep, of course. But here he was, dead to the world and vulnerable as he’d ever be. The implications went a long way toward lifting Farkas’s spirits.

He shouldn’t have punched Vilkas hard enough to warrant a healer and multiple potions. He could admit it to himself, even if he couldn’t muster any real regret. But he’d been stewing about that sword for long hours, so it was no surprise his resolve had failed.

And not just the sword, or the danger surrounding Jorrvaskr. Farkas’s anger cut deeper, and fear for his brother’s state of mind clenched his heart like a squeezing fist.

Traveling to Solitude last year, and threatening the queen of Skyrim had been stupid. Foolhardy, even. Singlehandedly attacking the Dark Brotherhood? Well, that was another kettle of fish altogether.

Did Vilkas care so little about his own life? Farkas intended to wrest the answers from his brother, and soon.

The sputtering candle finally died, releasing a plume of beeswax-scented smoke and jogging Farkas from his daze. He tiptoed into the dark room and snuffed the wick with his thumb and forefinger.

For now, he’d let them be. Answers could wait for the morning. In any case, Vilkas needed to heal in peace, and the peace of sleeping curled up next to his lover was the deepest peace there was.

Farkas knew from personal experience, although it had been too long, he thought, shutting the door as quietly as possible.

He walked back into his own bedroom and grabbed his pillow and blanket. Giving the comfortable mattress one last wistful glance, he walked back down the hall to the room Lilah and Maddy shared. Although not, Farkas suspected, for much longer.

One of the long wooden tables on the other side of the hall would make an adequate cot, and he stretched his body out on top of it. If Maddy awoke and missed her mom, he’d be there to calm her fears. And he’d be there for her when she awoke in the morning.

Uncle Farkas, he mused, as his eyes fell shut. Sweet Talos, he never imagined such a day would come.

 

* * *

 

The sun had crested the blue, summer sky by the time Vilkas made it outside. He’d awakened an hour earlier, but the surprise of waking up next to Lilah quickly melted into gooey and delicious languor, and neither of them had wanted to leave the warmth of their bed. If not for Lilah’s need to check on Maddy, they’d probably still be in his quarters.

But now that he was up and alert (and fully healed), there were matters to be tended. Bridges to be rebuilt.

Starting with the ramshackle span leading to his brother. Out on the cobblestones, Farkas’s giant form was surprisingly graceful as he performed his exercises, his longsword glinting under the sun. Vilkas had figured a quiet drink and discussion at the Mare would do the trick, but then again...

He grinned and jumped down the stairs leading to the training yard. “Want to finish what you started yesterday? I’m paying attention this time.”

Farkas turned around slowly and lowered his sword, nodding almost wearily, the dark circles under his eyes crinkling as the corners of his mouth twitched upward. He anticipated Vilkas’s first swing, and a few seconds later, the two veteran swordmasters were embroiled in an intricate dance that covered every inch of the cobblestone yard.

 

The empty cobblestone yard, Gillian noticed, from her vantage point on the verandah. Just a minute ago, trainees swarmed the place, their swords flashing and arrows flying every which way. They’d scattered like dust from a defeated draugr, though, as Vilkas made his way down the steps, that crooked wolf’s grin unsettling under his narrowed eyes.

Ordinarily, a challenge was a source of entertainment, but there was something almost private about this one. Too personal. Several whelps had witnessed the punch yesterday, and no one wanted to stick around and see anything like that again. They’d go hunting or drinking and come back later when the coast was clear.

Gillian winced as Vilkas scored a hit off Farkas’s bicep, although she was pretty sure he only used the flat edge of the sword. Even though they were both angry, neither of them really wanted to hurt the other. This battle was a long time coming, and it would be a long-fought bout, Gillian would bet her life on it.

She heard a door creak open and looked back to see Lilah walk out onto the verandah. Their eyes met, and Lilah seemed to shrink a little inside her pretty purple tunic. Gillian couldn’t blame her. According to Farkas, she’d been horrified by the effects of her uncontrolled magic. By the destruction she was capable of. Gillian had a feeling that would be a long-fought bout as well.

A clang from the yard drew Lilah’s eyes toward Vilkas, and she walked forward a few steps. Gillian moved to intercept her. “I can’t tell you what to do, but I’d leave it alone, if I were you.”

“No, I’m not going to mess with that,” Lilah said, shaking her head a little and popping her fingers. “It probably needs to happen, I’m guessing. Although the modern woman in me is dying to step in. We’re told from toddlerhood that violence isn’t the answer. But, when in Rome...”

Gillian laughed. “Not sure what Rome is, but those two have dueled their arguments since I’ve known them. Before, probably. They’ll end up exhausted, collapsed against the wall in about half an hour, and Vilkas will appreciate your comfort, I’m sure.”

An awkward silence fell for half a minute. “I-“

Both women spoke at the same time, and Gillian bowed toward Lilah, and held her hand out. “Go ahead.”

Lilah jerked her head to the side at another loud clang from the yard. Farkas’s sword banged against one of the braziers as he whirled to avoid Vilkas’s attack. She cleared her throat. _Sorry I almost killed you._ “I’m sorry,” she said, trying to hold back tears. “For hurting you.”

Gillian nodded. “I know. It’s…not something I blame you for.”

“I never thought you would, but it doesn’t change the fact that I hurt you,” Lilah said, walking over to stand next to Gillian and taking her hand. “I didn’t think of anything but protecting Maddy, and damn the cost. I could have killed you. I’m so, so sorry.”

“And now you know, don’t you? Lucky for us both, it wasn’t a lesson that required blood, but powerful mages have learned harder lessons with higher price. Once we figure out what’s going on with your power, we need to take a trip to Winterhold. There’s someone – or _something_ , I guess – I’d like you to meet.”

Gillian shuddered, thinking of the last time she’d visited the Augur of Dunlain. Dragons had nothing on the creepiness of a mage whose soul had long since fused with magical elements and energies, whose mind drifted constantly in and out of Aetherius. It was enough to –

She raised her brows and gave a little gasp.

Lilah jumped, cutting her eyes toward Vilkas and back to Gillian. She’d seen nothing alarming. “What is it?”

“Nothing, really. Maybe we need to take that trip to Winterhold sooner rather than later, that’s all,” she said, and changed the subject. “I’m sure Farkas told you what Paarthurnax said…”

“Yeah,” Lilah said, pouring a goblet of watered wine, “I’m glad it’s not an actual daedric lord that’s after me, but it would be nice to narrow the list down a bit more. I know Vilkas won’t relax until they’re caught. Dead, more like.”

“No doubt. But I’m not so convinced a daedric lord’s not involved. Indirectly, at least.”

Lilah stiffened and blinked. Another daedric lord? Another Mephala? “How do you mean?”

“Well, it’s some sort of ancient contract or something. I don’t pretend to understand. But Aedra, like Akatosh, don’t intervene in matters concerning Daedra, like Mephala, unless the interference is direct. Unless the daedric lord is targeting a specific person, unprovoked. They don’t interfere with our choices, even if they’re horrifically misguided. Or the daedric lord’s minions. Mephala was after Vilkas, personally, so it worked. But-”

“Why do you think there’s more to the story?”

Gillian sighed. Deciphering the mind games of dragons was a tricky business. “Paarthurnax told me that the mages who held you prisoner, and those who came after you outside the gates, weren’t prompted by a daedric lord. He stressed the word ‘prompted.’”

“That seems pretty conclusive,” Lilah said. She hoped it was, at least. Her last meeting with a daedra put Gillian in the hospital, or what passed for a hospital here. She couldn’t risk another encounter.

“He was telling the truth – he’s got no choice. But the words he used, his inflection…maybe they weren’t directed by a daedric lord, but one might be involved. I thought maybe he was trying to work in a clue,” she said, refilling her own goblet. “And when I asked him if there were daedra involved, he just repeated the same sentence. It struck me as weird, and I told him so.”

Lilah took a long drink from her goblet. “What did he say to that?”

“He said to do what I had to do.” Gillian laughed, watching Eorlund chase the twins down from the Skyforge with his own steel blade. They should have known better than to take the fight up there. Eorlund allowed no funny business around his forge. “And to bring you back this week.”

All fear of Mephala, and everything else unpleasant, fled at the thought. Flying! She was going flying! She hugged herself, already feeling icy wind in her hair and the shameless, preposterous freedom of soaring over mountains and seas on the back of a legendary monster. Gillian’s next words, though, sent her crashing down far too soon.

“And I need to start working with you, figuring out your magic. Get you to channel it without an emotional catalyst.”

“What? Are you sure?”

“Of course. Like I said, I’ve been where you are. I lashed out plenty with my powers when I first started, and – oh!”

Gillian gasped again, watching Vilkas swing Farkas around, slamming him into the back wall. A fragment of a memory popped to the forefront of her mind. It wasn’t exactly the same, but the story of how she’d nearly immolated Farkas might help Lilah understand. “Remember the first day we met, and I told you about Farkas dragging me from my bedroom?”

“Not likely to forget anything about that day,” Lilah said. “So yes.”

“Well, the rest of the story goes like this: he dragged me out here, and forced me to fight him.”

“How?”

“Taunted me. Punched me over and over until I just lost it.”

Lilah‘s mouth fell open, and she sputtered, trying to reconcile the Farkas she knew with this man. Someone who’d punch his friend. _Her friend_. “You told me it wasn’t as bad as it sounded. That Farkas wasn’t trying to hurt you. How-“

“He really was trying to help. Alduin, the dragon I eventually killed, or whatever…well, the second time we met, he’d just raised another dragon from the dead. Yeah,” Gillian said, grinning at Lilah’s shocked expression. “And then laughed at me and flew away, like I was…nothing. After that, I fell into sort of a catatonic state. Terror and existential collapse. I just wanted to waste away in my room. Farkas wouldn’t have it, of course. But the point is, once he got me good and mad enough, I lost control. I cast Incinerate.”

Lilah brushed a stray piece of straw from her tunic and looked over at Farkas. He’d decapitated one of the practice dummies, and bits of straw and burlap floated around the yard like dusty snowflakes. “He seems to have healed nicely.”

“It never hit him. Whirlwind Sprint’s a Shout for running unnaturally fast, so I got to him and pushed him out of the way. Of course, we hit the wall, and the force broke his arm.”

“Better than being burned,” Lilah said, trying to picture that day. She watched Vilkas wipe sweat from his brow, and smiled. She’d missed so much of his life. Everyone’s lives.

“I could have killed him, easy. But I fixed it. And I learned. You can, too,” Gillian said, linking her arm with Lilah’s. “And the sooner you learn to channel your powers without being freaked out or pissed off, the better for everyone. We’ll all be safer. And you’ll know who you are, and what you can do.”

Lilah stared out at Farkas and Vilkas, assailed by a momentary flash of memory. Oberyn Martell fighting The Mountain during Tyrion Lannister’s trial by combat. Of course Farkas wasn’t mean, stupid, and awful like Ser Gregor, but his size was comparable.

And Vilkas didn’t tease and showboat quite as much as Oberyn, but he did zip around like the cocky Viper, using Farkas’s size against him. Gods, she missed Sunday nights with her dad, eating too-salty popcorn and watching Game of Thrones.

Her throat started to swell, and she heard her dad’s wry drawl: _no point dwelling on something you can’t have, kid. Learn to love the life you’re living._ Lilah closed her eyes, and the threatening tears retreated. Her dad’s advice crossed universes, it seemed.

Vilkas really should learn to love life more, she mused, pushing thoughts of her old life from her mind, for the moment. Maybe not as much as Oberyn. That certainly didn’t end well, and if she _ever_ found him in a brothel…did Skyrim even have those? In any case, living a little would be…nice.

A flash of inspiration – would Vilkas fly with her? Would Odahviing even allow him on his back? Their relationship seemed a little banter-y, but she couldn’t tell if there was real hostility behind it.

“Don’t worry,” Gillian said, watching Lilah wince. Farkas knocked Vilkas down, the shock of it jolting Lilah out of her reverie. But Vilkas rolled out of the fall, and jumped right back up.

“So. Farkas might have mentioned how much closer you and Vilkas are,” she said, grinning at Lilah’s blush. “He didn’t divulge any salacious details, so I’ll have to rely on you for that in a more appropriate setting.”

Lilah smiled and held out her goblet. “Girls’ night?”

“Definitely,” Gillian said, tapping Lilah’s goblet with her own. “But in the meantime, have you given more thought to what you want to do now?”

Lilah nodded, remembering how she’d envisioned her future, last night in Vilkas’s bed. No time like the present to get the ball rolling. “I want to start making potions out of Jorrvaskr. And your idea of a mobile clinic, traveling around Skyrim and helping people who can’t make it to the city, or can’t pay…that’s a good one. I’d like to help, if the offer’s still open. Once I figure out how to heal.”

Gillian smiled wickedly. “And the Bard’s College?”

Lilah looked down at the stone floor and felt her face grow hot. Gillian had gone to a lot of trouble to set up that introduction. She hoped there’d be no hard feelings. “I-I appreciate everything you did for me, but-“

“I know,” Gillian said, and laughed. She’d be merciful this one time, and let her friend off the hook. “I knew there was no way you’d take the offer.”

“How?” Lilah spluttered again, trying to keep one eye on Gillian and the other on Vilkas. He’d started to slow down, and even though he was only fighting Farkas...

Gillian smirked and rolled her eyes. “Everyone else knew how you and Vilkas would end up before you two did. Isn’t that always the way? I did want to give you options just in case. Let you know what was out there. Help you understand you could survive in this crazy place. But mostly,” she said, shrugging her shoulders, “I did it to make Vilkas realize he didn’t want you to leave, and what that meant. For him. And it worked. Not right away, of course, but the knowledge wore down his shields, eventually.”

Lilah blushed a little more, and smiled, turning back to the yard just as Farkas disarmed Vilkas and pinned him to the far wall. Her smile faded, and she worried despite her own common sense. Gillian was right, wasn’t she? Farkas didn’t really want to hurt his brother. Did he?

 

Farkas shoved Vilkas against the wall, the hilt of his sword pressed against the side of his brother’s neck, and one giant hand splayed over his breastplate. Vilkas might have wiggled free, but the fight wasn’t in him anymore.

Truth be told, Farkas felt ready to drop, as well. A wooden table didn’t make for a comfortable bed, and Maddy tended to rise with the sun. If Arcadia could figure out how to bottle a four-year-old’s energy into a potion, she’d be a rich woman, indeed. “You figured out why I punched you, yet?”

Vilkas blinked. Was this a trick question? “I put Jorrvaskr in danger. The sword-”

“No,” Farkas interrupted, and frowned. “I mean, of course, that. But that’s obvious. I might have punched you if that was all, I’m not sure.” He frowned again and thought for a minute before shifting his eyes back to his brother. “Not the point.”

“Then...why?”

“Do-” Farkas began, and cleared his throat. He’d rehearsed this speech in his mind for hours. Handpicked every word, pictured Vilkas’s reaction. But hearing the words aloud was tougher than he’d imagined. “Do you want to die?”

Vilkas swallowed as best he could around the cold steel pressed to his throat, and said nothing. His green eyes widened as he stared up at Farkas.

“You’re my brother, and your life is worth more to me than my own, even. How can it be worth so little to you that you’d throw it away? The Ebony Blade was just the last straw. Before that, remember Solitude? Running off to threaten the queen of Skyrim with no backup? I thought you’d lost your damn mind.”

“I had, a bit,” Vilkas countered, shrugging.

“And then Farengar told me about the Dark Brotherhood. Walking into their sanctuary. Taking on dozens of magical, insane assassins on your own. What the fuck were you thinking, man?”

Farkas shoved Vilkas against the wall again, and took a deep breath. The more he talked about why he’d been so mad, the easier this got. “You’ve been on a suicide run for a while. So I’ll ask you again, brother. Do you want to die? You spend so much time trying to help others, even strangers. Do you really think you’re not worth saving?”

Vilkas’s eyes burned. He pulled off a gauntlet and reached up to put pressure on them, and Farkas pulled the sword away, backing up. Vilkas slid down the wall and hid his head in his hands. “Lilah asked that same question, last night.”

“She did?” Farkas sank to the ground next to Vilkas, surprised. Then again, the woman had pretty strong feelings for his brother, to forgive him after what he’d done. Farkas had a feeling he was going to owe Lilah more than a few thanks over the years.

“Yeah. I hadn’t thought about it before. But…”

“But what?”

“It’s not so much that I wanted to die. I mean, I wasn’t drinking too much or picking fights, or doing anything obviously destructive. It’s not like I walked naked into a den of trolls, you know,” Vilkas said, his mouth twitching in a feeble attempt at a grin. “But Gillian needed help. Those kids needed help, so I…helped. I didn’t want to die, but I guess…I didn’t really care if I lived, if that makes sense. So if I died helping other people, so be it.”

“But why? Was life really so awful?”

“We spent I don’t know how long in a necromancer’s cage and you have to ask?” Vilkas tipped his head back and stared into the sun, not bothering to shield his eyes. Memories arose unbidden - flashes of blood and pain. Screams and thuds. The shrieks of the necromancer himself. Kodlak’s huge sword flashing, cleaving the mage’s head from his body.

“It took so long to trust, again, after we came here. Years, and just when life finally started to make sense again, there was…Skjor, dead. The Silver Hand. Hircine, and our wolves. Gods, Farkas. We had to rip part of our soul from our body and tear it to fucking shreds. Listen to it scream as it died. Did that not affect you?”

Vilkas huffed. It did, and he knew it did. He could feel Farkas flinching beside him. “Well, it damn near killed me. And then, not even a year later, there was the Civil War. Killing people we’d grown up with. Brothers and sisters betraying each other. Watching Gray-Manes and Battle-Borns tear each other apart in the streets, and… _for what?_ ”

Farkas shook his head. “But-“

Vilkas ignored him. If Farkas wanted to know what had been festering in his soul for the past fifteen years, well, he’d get it all. “And the fight with Alduin, and more death. Gillian, hanging on to life by so little. You remember Odahviing flying over the town, screaming for help, don’t you? Her blood dripping down the Gildergreen?”

“And then, Kodlak.” A tear rolled down Vilkas’s cheek before he could catch it. Then again, the only people who could see him knew exactly how he felt. He didn’t need to hide it from his brother. From Gillian. And…from Lilah.

“How does anyone come back from so much death? So much loss? And I never believed for a minute…” he said and hissed, exhaling a ragged breath. He never believed he’d have someone of his own. That he’d live long enough. _I was wrong about that_. “So yeah, for a while, life didn’t really seem all that great. All that…permanent. So why fight for my own?”

Farkas scrubbed his face with his palms. He couldn’t say anything to make the past less bleak. Vilkas was right – death and loss seemed to follow them around like vicious, malevolent lost puppies.

His brother’d always been the more thoughtful one, and Farkas had envied him that, growing up. Now, though? Not so much. Farkas was great at turning his brain off. Deciding some thoughts weren’t worth thinking, and shoving them into strongboxes deep in his mind. Old girlfriends. Arithmetic. And…the very things that had driven Vilkas so close to destruction.

Maybe he could help Vilkas concentrate on the future instead of dwelling on the past. His brother did love a challenge, after all. “If I read that situation right last night, this morning…you have a woman now, one who’s betting on you. And a child. I figured she’d be long gone, man,” he said, chuffing and haphazardly pointing out toward Whiterun, “after what you did. But no, she’s still here. Do you have any idea what that means?”

Vilkas nodded slowly and turned his gaze toward the verandah, and Lilah. His breath suddenly caught in his chest, everything he’d done to hurt Farkas flashing before his eyes. Years of distancing himself, taking stupid risks, isolation and loneliness.

Last month, he barely had his own sanity, and now he’d taken on a family. Could he do it? Could he change? What if he couldn’t? What if everything he’d done wasn’t just a response to grief, but merely his own weakness of character?

His heart raced in a fit of momentary panic. He was raised in a mead hall, for Talos’s sake. Almost literally by wolves. How could he take care of a wife, or raise a daughter?

Kodlak had given Vilkas a sword at age six, but Maddy was four and already swinging like a champ. Was this any sort of life for her? He thought of everything Lilah’d told him about her world, all the comforts and opportunities. Life in Skyrim seemed ridiculously hard and rough by comparison.

And, he thought, his gut twisting with worry, what if we manage to find her way home? Did he have the strength to let her go, if it came to it?

Last night, with Lilah’s warm body curled around his, it all seemed so easy, so…obtainable. But now?

“I can see what you’re doing, brother. Stop,” Farkas said, not even looking at him. He could feel Vilkas’s worries mounting, see the what-ifs spinning inside his brother’s harried mind. “You can’t weasel out of this. I’m not going to let you.”

“I’m not trying to weasel out of anything,” Vilkas said, slamming his fist down on his knee. “I’m just – I just have no idea how I’m going to do this. How do normal people make this work?”

“You’ll figure it out. And in the meantime, think of the benefits. You take care of her, she takes care of you. When have you ever had a deal like that?” Farkas laughed as Lilah stepped off the verandah, bringing tankards of something cold for the both of them. “Gods, man. I never thought you’d be the one to go first. But I’ve never been so happy to be wrong in all my days.”

Vilkas smiled and relaxed a little as Lilah walked closer. “I’m sorry, brother,” he said. “For everything. For hurting you, for shutting you out. I can’t promise I’ll never do it again, but…”

He felt rather than saw Farkas nod his head. His brother had a point – he did have work to do. Amends to make. And he had the rest of his life to get it right.

 


	20. Let Me Bleed Instead of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilah and Vilkas get new digs and have tough conversations.
> 
> Title from Cocoon, by Milky Chance

 

Lilah smoothed the last wrinkles from Maddy’s new snowberry-colored quilt and propped her teddy bear against the pillows. She took a deep breath. The sweet smell of sawdust still lingered in the air.

The last two weeks had passed in a jumbled, messy whirl of crowded beds and stolen moments of privacy, but now the demolition and construction were finally – _finally_ – over, and their new suite was ready.

As usual, nothing happened according to plan. Lilah and Vilkas had planned to move in together the night of his brawl – slash – makeup fight with Farkas. She and Gillian even sketched out a plan to rearrange the furniture in the Harbinger’s quarters to make it work.

But Vilkas had taken one look at the diagram and sighed, shaking his head and staring into the firepit, deep in thought. And of course, Lilah feared the worst – he’d changed his mind. He didn’t want her, after all.

She was wrong, and Vilkas had laughed when she’d voiced her fears. Perhaps not the best reaction, but he was still learning how to function in a relationship, so Lilah cut him a bit of slack. No, Vilkas still wanted her. But the more he thought about it, the more inadequate his old quarters became. Lilah needed a comfortable space – a space meant for a family. Not just his anymore, but theirs.

So they’d hired some local carpenters and masons for a quick remodel. A new, sturdy door with strong locks enclosed the old conference and trophy room, most of the bookcases and weapons racks relegated to hallways and the sub-basement. Part of the interior wall had been taken down and replaced with a thick tapestry. Maddy’d been entranced by it, tracing its floral and snowflake pattern and mumbling something about a place called Arendelle.

Matching tapestries hung around what had been the arcane enchanter and wardrobe in the western corner of the old bedroom– it would now function as Maddy’s sleeping space.

Lilah’d been surprised to discover the enchanter haphazardly hidden under piles of dusty boots and broken armor, but Nords were nothing if not creatures of habit, and Vilkas and Kodlak and countless Harbingers had kept the mage’s gear out of respect for the distant past.

Apparently, Harbingers of old had had a complicated relationship with magic – ‘a necessary evil bitterly embraced,’ Kodlak had confided to Vilkas shortly before his own passing. They’d made that bargain with the Glenmoril witches and Hircine, after all, so Vilkas wasn’t all that surprised. But no one ever used the enchanter, at least not in Vilkas’s memory.

It just made no sense to keep it anymore, especially since he was the first Harbinger in anyone’s memory to move a family into quarters. So, in keeping with ushering in a new era, he’d given all the arcane equipment he could find to Nina and Brelyn, who’d begun fashioning mage-appropriate living quarters and a fully-kitted laboratory in the sub-basement.

With colorful new linens and shining, honey-colored wood and additional wall sconces, the new rooms were comfortable. Cozy, even, but Lilah had one reservation. She ran her fingers down the tapestries surrounding Maddy’s bed. “Are you sure this is…are you sure this is ok?”

“It’s fine, I promise. You’ve been in Breezehome,” Vilkas said, waiting for Lilah’s nod. “Before Argis and Gillian moved in, a family of five lived there. Mother, father, and three children.” He grinned at her stricken expression. “I know. Given what you’ve told me about how you lived back…back home, it seems small-“

Lilah interrupted, shaking her head and waving the small tunic she was folding as she fluttered her hands in protest. “It’s not the size. I’ve lived in smaller places. I’m not a princess, you know. But, Breezehome only has one sleeping space. Granted, there’s a little alcove with a tiny bit of privacy, but the way we have things here, Maddy’s not behind a solid door. She’ll…hear us.”

Vilkas just stared at her, his eyes narrowed in puzzlement.

 _Is this not an issue in Skyrim? Why is this not an issue in Skyrim?_ Lilah stilled, raising her brows as high as they could go, a scary thought flashing through her mind. Her cheeks burned pink. “Wait, do y’all not have sex once you have kids?”

Vilkas snorted, leaning against the wall. Was that what she was worried about? How did kids learn about sex where she came from if they didn’t think their parents did it?

“No, there’s still plenty of that happening. Most people have multiple kids in Whiterun, you know. But, I mean, there’s only so much room inside the city walls. Houses can’t be too big. And,” he said, pushing off the wall and turning to fall on the bed, “think about how cold our winters get here. I know you haven’t seen it yet, but…snow every day, and screaming winds. How did you heat your houses back home?”

“Central heating,” Lilah said, kneeling on a blue and green rag rug next to the bed and sliding Maddy’s tunics into her nightstand. “Sort of like a fire in a metal box behind the walls. Big fans blow heat into each room through pipes. Something like that, anyway.”

“Sounds nice and, yes, private. But I’m betting you see the danger of fireplaces in every room. Especially with kids, and people who enjoy warming themselves with lots of mead. I have one because my quarters are the largest. The Circle’s quarters share one fire, and the heat passes through vents in the walls. And even that has to be guarded and tended overnight, during the winter. Make sure it doesn’t go out, and it’s banked so sparks don’t escape,” Vilkas explained, standing to tighten the ropes that held the room dividers.

Lilah sat back against the nightstand and watched him, listening. Life in Skyrim sometimes seemed simpler than life back home, but she’d definitely miss flipping a switch and getting instant heat in the winter. Thank every god in creation for magically-heated water and hot springs, she thought to herself. Otherwise, the choice to stay in Skyrim might be a little more touch and go.

“The whelps’ dorm’s heated by the kitchen. Vented walls, again. Sometimes in the summer, it gets too warm. I found Njada many summers ago, asleep on a table on the veranda,” he said, chuckling at the memory. Farkas had loomed over her, waiting to freak her out when she awoke and saw his face just inches from her own. It worked – she’d squawked and fallen off the table, sending a jug of wine and an apple pie flying on her way down. The laughs had been worth the mess.

“And think of the resources involved – wood, coal, spells. Jorrvaskr’s unique. There’s so many to keep warm and fed, and townspeople don’t mind because we protect them if they need it, hunt for them, things like that. But most family homes have one firepit, and the heat has to spread quickly. Doors and interior walls just aren’t practical.”

“I know,” Lilah said, and sighed. “Practically, logically…I know. But I just can’t get over the idea that Maddy’s going to hear us.”

“She tends to sleep through most noises, though, right? I remember after Summer Day, she barely woke up at all when I put her to bed.” Vilkas leaned back against the wall once more, and sighed. Barely two weeks had passed since that night, but it felt like a lifetime.

They’d faced so much together – the powers that stalked each of them had played their hands, and Lilah’d come through with flying colors, saving them both. It was only a matter of time before she truly came into her own, and Vilkas imagined she’d be quite a force to reckon with when she did.

And weaving its golden thread through the danger and complications and surreality of the past two weeks – _hell_ , he thought, borrowing an expression from Lilah, the past two _months_ – there was love. He believed it was love, anyway. Lilah’s idea of courtship seemed to cast doubt on whirlwind romances, but by Skyrim’s standards, there was no mistaking it.

Vilkas understood, if a little grudgingly, why Lilah resisted a permanent commitment. After all, they were still looking for that portal. Nina, Brelyn, and Aela had searched down in Falkreath for almost a week, testing the areas around the Lady Stone and Lake Ilinalta. No progress, but no sign of the conjurers, either. Gillian had ideas about trying something in Winterhold, but they were waiting to speak with Paarthurnax the next morning before starting out.

And even if the portal were off the table, Lilah still had Maddy to think about. Helping her child adjust to a new world, a new life…well, it took precedence over building the foundations for a marriage. How could he expect Maddy to accept him as a father so quickly? The girl was bound to be missing her own family, her own father. Although now that he thought about it…

“Does Maddy ever mention missing her grandparents or her father? You’ve been here almost two months. Doesn’t she ask when she’s going home?”

Lilah rose and gave the small space one last glance, and they walked out through the quilted divider. The remainder of the old bedroom now housed Vilkas’s desk, two wardrobes and, of course, the firepit. It seemed surprisingly roomy now, without all the clutter.

“No, she doesn’t. She’s never had a great concept of time. Jason was gone a lot anyway, and we came and went from my parents’ house with no set schedule. I know it’ll change eventually, but she could be away from people for months and not wonder about it. Honestly,” Lilah said, grimacing and grabbing her old backpack from one of the wardrobes, “it’s probably a blessing in disguise now, but Jason’s been fading for a while. From her memory, I mean. Terrible thing to say about a little girl and her father, but if we’re really here for the long haul…”

Vilkas nodded. He would never begrudge a father his child, but Lilah had a point: Maddy couldn’t miss what she couldn’t remember. Unfortunately, the specter of Maddy’s father, Lilah’s husband – _no, former husband_ – didn’t fade from his own mind so easily.

“So, um...that song you sang after dinner last night. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house. ‘ _I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you…take me back to the night we met.’_

Vilkas didn’t want to ask the question weighing on his mind since he and Lilah’d become…close. Didn’t want to give his insecurities free reign to make his life difficult. Again. But the bond between a father and mother was special. Strong. And if they found the portal…

“Were you…you weren’t thinking of him, were you?”

“So, you were listening…I wondered. I watched you while I sang, and you seemed so far away, I wasn’t sure. But if that’s what you thought –“

“Feared,” Vilkas said, breaking in.

“If that’s what you feared, I can understand why. Come on.”

Lilah took his hand and led him out through the large tapestry and into the former conference room. Now, their own bedroom. A new blue and green patterned quilt replaced the old, dusty furs on the bed, and twice as many candles bathed the cozy space in warm, glowing light. Sawdust, beeswax, and the softly-crackling fire smelled like heaven, Lilah decided. Smelled like home.

“Gillian didn’t tell you what happened with us, did she?”

“She told me she knew, but that it was up to you to let me in.”

Lilah sighed and hefted her old backpack onto the big bed. Vilkas wasn’t the only treasure she’d uncovered in Skyrim. She’d clicked with Gillian right away, and since then, the impatient, generous woman with the soul of a damned dragon had taken up a surprisingly large space in Lilah’s heart. Close friends were hard to come by, and Gillian had grown into one of her best.

Good thing, since they were going to be working together and, if she and Vilkas really did end up together, as good as family. “I appreciate that. And no, I didn’t write that song. I wish I could write something that beautiful, but it’s by a band called Lord Huron, from back home. Long story short, and I’d like to make this as short as possible – Jason found someone else. He left, fell in love with another woman. That’s it.”

“He left you, and his child, for some…stranger?” Vilkas sat heavily down on a chair near the bed, his mouth nearly hanging open. His stupid, insecure brain had built Jason up to almost mythical proportions – strong, successful, smart, amazing, tall – the man had Lilah, didn’t he? How could he be anything less than spectacular?

But this man…he’d let her go, and let her down. Vilkas wasn’t sure whether he wanted to run Jason through or shake his hand in appreciation for his own good fortune. In his mind, the sword was winning the battle, but just barely.

“As I told Gillian, it’s always more complicated than it sounds.”

“Complicated or not, people in Skyrim don’t-“

“People in Skyrim don’t what?” Lilah shoved the backpack away and turned to face him, her hands twisting a piece of brightly colored cloth. “Cheat on their spouses? Drink too much? Throw a couple of punches here and there when they get angry? Grow apart and distant, and end up hating each other? I saw all that and more just in my own group of friends, and you can’t tell me that people here are so different. There’s still passion and anger and jealousy. Money problems and –“

She broke off, noticing Vilkas’s eyes widen at her raised voice.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you, it’s just…” She tossed the cloth on the bed and knelt down in front of a white-faced Vilkas, her hands on his knees. “It was tough, and I was angry and hurt. And scared. I’d followed Jason around the country for years for his job – he was a soldier, but back home, families move with the army, so when it happened? I was hundreds of miles from family and friends. Completely isolated. Couldn’t...”

She touched her forehead to her hands, and sighed, the pain of the memory cutting off her words. She’d never been so crushed. There’d been days when just getting out of bed had been all she could manage, and keeping herself together while helping her little girl feel safe and secure took all her strength.

Vilkas stroked her hair and bristled, trying to think why he was so defensive of a custom he’d taken no part in thus far. Lilah…might be right, he admitted, considering some of Whiterun’s longest-running couples.

There was Nazeem and Ahlam... Nazeem, one of the Jarl’s advisers, spent almost no time at home. If he wasn’t bootlicking around Dragonsreach or drinking too much at the Drunken Huntsman, he was strutting through the village terrorizing merchants and flirting with anyone who’d give him the time of day.

And Ahlam? Years ago, Vilkas overheard her fervent prayer that Nazeem might be killed during the Civil War. They may still be married, but gods, they hated each other.

Even Balgruuf…the Jarl himself hadn’t seen his own wife, the mother of his kids, in years. She’d left to visit family in Solitude almost a decade ago, and never returned. Not even when one of the kids was targeted by Mephala last year.

 _Yes_. He frowned, mentally scanning everyone he knew. For every Eorlund and Fralia Gray-Mane, whose marriage was rock steady, there seemed to be a Nazeem and Ahlam. Was this what Lilah feared their relationship could turn into?

Or, Vilkas thought, a yawning pit opening up in his gut, was she afraid he’d leave her the way Jason did? Only this time, she’d be stranded, with her child, in a strange universe rather than a strange town.

He moved his fingers to caress the back of her neck. Her hesitation to rush into marriage made sense, now. Even if marriages didn’t break up in Skyrim, people could still leave each other. And did.

Well, if that was what she was afraid of, there was only one thing to do. He took a deep breath. “I’m not going to do any of those things. It’ll take time to prove it, I know, but in the meantime, consider this: if we do find that portal, and if you do want to go back home, I’ll go with you. If you want me to.”

She raised her eyes to his, and they were round and shining. Why did she never think that was a possibility? That Vilkas would go home with her? She tried to picture Vilkas on the couch watching football with her dad. Or swimming with Maddy in the Atlantic Ocean, his hair wet with salt spray and lightened by the sun.

“Really?” She smiled through a few stray tears, and Vilkas’s heart soared. “You’d do that for me? You’d leave your entire life…for me?”

“How can I expect it of you if I wouldn’t expect it of myself? Either way, someone’s going to be starting over, Lilah. If it comes down to it, we’ll make the decision together. And yes, I’d go with you.”

She wiped her eyes and grabbed his hand and kissed it. “Thank you,” she said, letting the warmth of his hand sink into her cheek. She pushed herself to her feet and kissed his mouth before opening her backpack once more.

Finally, she could put these things away. Her sunscreen, which came in handy now that the sun scorched for at least a couple of hours a day. She’d have to figure out how to make some herself. She was an alchemist, after all. Band-aids, mints, gum. A protein bar. A towel, far more absorbent than what existed in Skyrim. Little conveniences, memories of another life.

Vilkas watched her take items out of that garish green backpack she’d come through the portal with, and put them in their new dresser. A shiny, black and silver rectangle caught his eye. “Is that the thing Gillian called your phone? The thing you use to talk to people you can’t see?”

Lilah nodded, staring at its glossy black surface. She took a deep breath and pushed a button. A white apple flashed for a moment, then disappeared, only to be replaced by a dozen small, square pictures.

Vilkas stood up behind Lilah, looking at the little marvel over her shoulder.

“Still at ninety percent battery,” she said with a small chuckle. “Not bad.”

“Battery?” Vilkas stared as she touched one square with her finger, and it expanded, turning into a picture of Maddy. Dressed up in a long, purple dress with a gold circlet on her head.

“Yeah. Power. Sort of like…like how a soul gem charges an enchanted weapon. After awhile, it needs a new gem to recharge.”

“How do you recharge that?”

Lilah leaned back against his chest and groaned. “I can’t. It takes a specific amount of electricity – power, like lightning – coming through this port,” she pointed at a small hole on the bottom of the phone. “So once this battery’s done, it’s dead.”

Vilkas reached out to touch the picture of Maddy. He ran his finger over the surface, and Maddy slid out of the frame, replaced by two elderly people. He jerked back in shock. _Gods_.

He’d sympathized with Lilah, with her having to get used to strange things in a foreign world. Could he do what she’d done? Could he really walk through the portal if he had to make that choice? Start life over again in a world where he might not fit in? For her, he would, but… _Gods. What a bizarre place it must be._ “Your parents?”

She nodded, her head bobbing against his chest, and turned to sit on the bed, pulling Vilkas down beside her. “Yeah, my parents. You know, I’m almost reconciled with staying here in Skyrim. Mostly. I’ll have a good life and there are things I love about being here,” she said, bumping his shoulder with her own. “But for two things. If I could have two things, I think I’d be at peace.”

Vilkas straightened. Anything he could do to make her more comfortable, make her feel at home, he’d turn himself inside out to get done. “What things?”

“I want to let my parents know I’m ok. And Jason. That Maddy and I are safe and happy. I know it’s as impossible as finding that portal in the first place, but if I could have just one wish right now, that’s what I’d wish for.”

“I can understand that. If anything happened to you and I had to wonder about it,” Vilkas said, shivering at the thought. “And we’re working on it. You know how I feel about giving you the choice, and I –“

“I know. I hate talking about it, you know,” she said, squeezing his hand. “I feel like I’m kicking you in the teeth every time I bring it up. Like you’re not enough, like it’s not enough…”

“I don’t think that. I understand. You can be happy with me and still miss home. What’s the second thing?”

“Well, it’s a little frivolous,” she said, sliding her finger across the pictures again.

Maddy in a uniform of some sort, holding a black and white ball. Maddy playing with a big group of kids. Maddy holding a big basket of brightly-colored…

“Are those eggs?”

“Yeah. We dye them for a holiday, back home. See these? All these pictures? I even have videos, remember me telling you about movies?” She tapped one picture, and it started moving. A younger Maddy in the arms of a tall, lanky man. Dark hair, brown eyes. He spun Maddy around in a sweet dance and tossed her in the air, catching her as she shrieked with glee. Maddy’s father. The man who’d left Lilah, who’d hurt her. Who’d hurt Maddy. Moving right in front of his eyes.

Vilkas choked down the desire to throttle the tall bastard through time and space. “Can you – can you watch those anytime?”

“Until the battery goes dead. And I will. Even turning it off when I’m not using it, it won’t last forever. But until then…and that’s my second wish. When this is gone,” she said, shaking the phone in her fist, “I’ll lose Maddy’s baby pictures. I’ll lose any picture of my parents. Maddy will forget her own father’s face. I want those pictures, Vilkas. If I’m never going to see my parents again, I want a picture. I don’t want to forget what Maddy looked like as a baby. And if Maddy ever asks about Jason one day, I want to be able to show her.”

Vilkas flinched as something tugged on a corner of his mind. A fleeting thought, something he should know...should understand. Was there a way? He thought there must be, but couldn’t put his finger on it. He’d ask Gillian, later. Or Aela.

 _Aela_ …another spark flew up his spine. There it was again. Something about Aela…

Lilah sighed and turned the power to her phone back off. “Need to save the battery, as long as I can.”

Vilkas wrapped his arms around her and snuggled her down onto the quilt. Maddy was out in the yard, practicing swordplay with Njada and Masly, so they had a little quiet time in their new space.

Too soon, the world would catch up with them. There’d be potions to make, games to play, dinner to eat, and mountains to climb. Literally, since Gillian was dragging Lilah back up the mountain to see Paarthurnax tomorrow.

But for now, nothing mattered but Lilah and Vilkas. The beat of his heart, the scent of her hair. They lay on top of the quilt with their eyes closed, their bodies entwined. Breathing in the stillness. Together.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay, you guys. I’ve been sitting on a hopelessly unsatisfactory 9000 word chapter for a month and finally realized today that it was overwhelming and I needed to cut it in half. So, hopefully, the next half will be out pretty soon. As always, thank you all so much for reading and commenting. It means the world.


	21. You Don’t Want To Fuck With Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilah doesn’t like being invisible as much as Harry Potter would. And Maddy impresses a dragon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from “World Gone Mad,” by Bastille

 

Lilah stood in the middle of Jorrvaskr’s makeshift mage’s laboratory with her eyes squeezed shut and her fists clenched. She took a massive breath, her chest and belly expanding against her rose-colored tunic, and exhaled slowly. _Cool breezes. Snowflakes. Coffee. Warm, soft beds._

Gillian grinned and nudged Nina with an elbow. “Ready,” she said sharply, and snorted at Lilah’s flinch. “Come on, open your eyes, it’s not going to be that bad.”

Lilah opened one eye halfway and grimaced, giving up her half-assed attempt at relaxation. Thinking of warm, soft beds wasn’t working anyway. It led to thoughts of Vilkas - delicious thoughts, but definitely not calming ones. “Yes it is. It already _was_ that bad. I made Brelyn pass out. He can’t even get up from his bed. How’s that not so bad?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” the Dunmer mage called sleepily. “I’ll be up in a….”

All three women flinched a little as Brelyn’s speech trailed off into gibberish and finally to snores. Lilah sat down on a stool near the alchemy table, absently twisting the skirt of her tunic around her fingers and staring at Brelyn’s fur-covered bed. Paarthurnax had encased her in ice not so long ago, in an attempt to bring her talents to light – an uncomfortable and scary experience, but not painful or debilitating.

But not thirty minutes ago, Brelyn stood in this very room and cast an invisibility spell on Lilah, or tried to, at least. He’d ended up unconscious, completely drained of magicka and stamina, and scraped and bruised from his fall on the hard stone floor. A few healing spells had helped, but Lilah had no idea how she’d hurt him in the first place, and had no desire to hurt Brelyn’s twin.

She braced her elbows on her knees and turned to Nina, watching the mage’s violet-red eyes glimmer under the balls of warm, golden candlelight floating around the room. Larger lights hovered at intervals closer to the walls, resembling windows open to bright sunlight. This room wasn’t so bad.

Lilah’d been horrified upon learning that the mages responsible for saving her life back on the island had been relegated to Jorrvaskr’s underground rooms, a sub-basement sunk beneath the whelps’ dorm and the kitchens. Basements had always creeped Lilah out a little – too many memories of horror flicks and smelly middle-school science labs – but Nina and Brelyn had been thrilled. At least in the beginning.

“I can’t believe we get this whole space!” Nina’d spun in circles around the largest room, her black robes whirling out from her legs until she’d dizzily collapsed against the stone wall. Lilah and Maddy shivered in the chill dark, reluctant to step down from the staircase, but Brelyn zipped from room to room like an excited puppy.

“We could sleep in that room,” he’d said, flinging his arm toward a small corner alcove, “and over here’s plenty of space for drying racks and alchemy tables. And there’s even an escape tunnel leading up and out to the yard just in case a spell gets away from us…”

As one, the twins looked up in horror, suddenly realizing the consequences of such an occurrence.

“An out-of-control shock rune could bring the entire building down,” they’d explained to Vilkas, “and we don’t want gas reactants venting into Jorrvaskr. Some are flammable –“

Brelyn’s robes had fluttered as Vilkas jumped up from his desk and, without a word, dashed upstairs to catch the stonemasons who’d just finished work on his own quarters.

Now with the gloomy sub-basement out of the picture, when Lilah and Gillian realized they needed magical help getting out of the city, they’d knocked on the door of the previously-unused storage building behind Jorrvaskr’s kitchens. New, properly vented and separate quarters would be ready for the twins by early fall.

“Is this really necessary?” Lilah snagged a sprig of rosemary from Nina’s mortar and rubbed it between her fingers, enjoying the woodsy fragrance. “Can’t I wear a floppy hat or something? A mask? A scarf over my face? Using magic to become invisible just seems like overkill.”

“Noooo,” Nina said, shaking her head vigorously, “it’s absolutely the perfect amount of kill. If Vilkas is right, and those conjurers are only holding off burning Whiterun to the ground or sending in monsters from Oblivion because they need you alive, well…”

“We have to go up the mountain today. Paarthurnax was pretty insistent he see you, not just me. In fact,” Gillian said with a slight scowl, “he seemed not to want to see me at all. Weird. But, up we go. In secret. And any mage worth his salt wouldn’t be fooled by a floppy hat or one of your superhero masks.” Gillian winked, remembering Lilah’s Green Arrow story from the night Vilkas had nearly killed himself with that enchanted dagger.

Lilah cringed, nearly having forgotten her drunken confession. She’d never anticipated staying in Skyrim and getting to know everyone at Jorrvaskr well enough that she’d no longer be reminded of their ‘doppelgängers.’ Lilah still saw a little of Amy Pond in Gillian and Oliver Queen in Vilkas, but their own personalities had long since overshadowed any physical resemblance.

She cringed again and shivered. Gillian was right. This really was their only option.

_I’m going to be invisible._

That was, if the magic would even work on her. So far, most spells dissolved far too quickly, and Brelyn’s attempt had backfired completely. Gillian’s Shouts, potions, even enchanted items – Lilah neutralized them all with seemingly no effort. Just one of the things they hoped Paarthurnax could shed light on during their time on the mountain.

“This won’t hurt a bit, of course,” Nina said, the rosy-peach mist of the spell flowing through her fingers. “You might feel a little strange, being invisible, but it’s fun, too. Here goes.”

Lilah took a deep breath and tried to relax and accept the spell, to accept the surreal, freaksome results. It was tougher than it looked after a lifetime of dismissing all things supernatural. But magic wasn’t supernatural, here, was it? It was very, very much the ordinary way of things.

Nina’s spell zipped across the room and sank into her skin. The mage was right – it was a strange feeling. Almost like being wrapped in a soft cloak, except the cloak was a million tiny cloaks roaming around inside her body, changing who she was, who people perceived her to be.

She choked down a tiny sliver of fear and opened her eyes, looking down. Nothing was different. She was still there. “Did it work?”

“Yes,” Gillian said. “Remember, you can still see yourself. Wouldn’t it be weird if you couldn’t? Anyway, we didn’t want to cheer and freak you out and ruin it. Now, walk around a little. See if it sticks.”

Lilah stood up and walked around the room, remembering not to pick up any objects – interaction with any person or object would break the spell. Although now that limit was in mind, she could see no fewer than six things she desperately wanted to touch. One of the candlelight balls, for instance. Or that tiara on the table, shimmering softly with some enchantment or other. Copper was her favorite metal, and…were those really emeralds?

“Ok, it’s done,” Gillian said after about five minutes. Lilah didn’t think she looked happy.

“How’d I do? Wasn’t that enough time?”

Nina shook her head wearily. “Usually that spell lasts half an hour for us. Nirnlings, that is. You burn through these spells too fast.”

“Nirnians,” Lilah said, and grinned. “Can we try again? It’s getting better.”

“If we had the time, I’d love to.“ Gillian shook her head and walked to the door. “But Paarthurnax is expecting us yesterday, so we’re going to have to bring out the advanced team for this.”

Lilah followed Nina and Gillian out the door and across the training yard, wondering if they were going up to the palace to see that court mage Farkas disliked so much. He was the only other mage in Whiterun, and if they needed more help…

But no, Gillian stopped in front of the stone wall below the Skyforge. She rested her palm on the wall and part of it quietly faded away, revealing a dark tunnel.

“Welcome to the Underforge,” Gillian said, she and Nina fixing Lilah with identical expressions. Raised eyebrows, pursed lips.

 _Yikes_.

“And this is secret,” Nina said, conjuring a ball of candlelight in her palm. “No one can know you have what we’re about to give you, and it goes right back here after you’re done.”

Lilah’s eyes widened and she backed up a step. “What is it?”

Gillian cast several balls of cool, bright magelight down the hallway and the three women ducked inside, the stone door reappearing behind them. After about fifty paces, the hallway opened onto a large, round room, completely empty except for a stone font standing in the middle of the stone floor.

“Is that blood?” Lilah wrinkled her nose at the brownish stains covering the interior of the font.

“Long story, another time,” Gillian said, shuddering a little herself. She looked at Nina. “Ready?”

Nina nodded, and she and Gillian raised their hands, their eyes narrowed and focused on the font. Sweat began to bead on their foreheads and their arms trembled. After a few minutes, the floor under the font seemed to liquefy, and the font slipped a few paces toward the back of the room.

After the mages caught their breath, Nina led them over to the crevasse where the font had stood, and there, set into the floor, was a large, black safe. Nina inserted a small key into a silver lock. Lilah heard a click as the key turned, but the door didn’t open. Nina stepped back.

Gillian raised a hand and shot turquoise mist at the safe, and Lilah heard another click. Still the door stayed shut. Gillian looked at Lilah and tipped her head toward the safe. “Your turn. Go place your palm in the middle of the door.”

“Why?”

“This is a three-factor lock. You’re the third factor. It needs your touch to open.”

“But,” Lilah said, blinking between Nina and Gillian, “why me?”

“Vilkas trusts you,” Gillian said, smiling at Lilah’s puzzled expression. “Go on.”

Lilah took a step forward and squatted down on her heels, staring at the smooth black door. She’d been at Jorrvaskr for two months. Two. No way she should be given a privilege like this. She’d have to talk to Vilkas. Not about having his trust, she’d earned that. But wouldn’t Jorrvaskr veterans – Ria, Njada, Athis – wouldn’t they…

Gillian cleared her throat. “I can hear you discounting yourself, Lilah. Stop. The Harbinger trusts you. That’s enough for everyone here.”

Lilah rolled her eyes, but nodded and lay her hand on the center of the door. _Click_.

The door cracked an inch or two ajar, and Gillian and Nina each grabbed a corner and guided it to rest, fully open, against the stone floor. Lilah peered inside. Rolls of paper, jewelry, and piles of clothing filled the safe almost halfway. “How do you find what you need in here?”

“Reach in, try to grab that scroll, there.” Gillian gestured with one hand and grinned. “It won’t hurt, but we’re particularly proud of this bit of enchantment,” she said, bumping Nina’s shoulder with her own. “Go on, I want to see your face.”

Lilah rolled her eyes again, but reached inside the safe. She should have been able to touch the scroll, easy. But suddenly it moved from her grasp, and as she scanned the safe, it seemed to sink into the stone floor, its bottom expanding into the earth. The more she reached, the further the scroll drifted.

She looked up at Gillian and Nina and then back at the safe, focusing on the enchantment – golden knots tied around the safe itself – rather than the items stored within. If she could just reach around the knots…

A mild shock zapped her fingers, and she pulled them back. “Ouch!”

Lilah stared at the enchantment, wiggling her fingers to shake off the shock. “I can see the enchantment, the spell. The illusion’s gone, but I still can’t get the scroll. It sort of…shocked me.”

“Hm…weird. It’s not supposed to hurt.” Now it was Gillian’s turn to roll her eyes and peer into the safe. “But I should have known it wouldn’t work the same for you. Here, this is what it’s supposed to look like.”

She reached toward the scroll, and it kept drifting away. Soon, the safe appeared to stretch several stories into the ground.

“Amazing,” Lilah said. “So how do you get what we need?”

Nina held her hand out. “Ring of Peerless Shadow Shape,” she said, clearly enunciating each syllable.

Something gold shot from the safe into her hand, and she held it out toward Lilah.

“An invisibility ring?” Lilah took the intricately carved ring, turning it over in her hands.

“Yep,” Nina said. “Enchanted objects work for you a little longer than spells. This one works indefinitely for us, so it _should_ get you to the mountain. When you get there, give it to Gillian, and then put it back on when you leave.”

“But if it’s secret, won’t people notice when I put it on and disappear?”

“No, we’ve already thought of that,” Brelyn said from the end of the tunnel, stumbling a little and looking pale, but recovered, for the most part. “I woke up and you all were gone, so I figured you’d gone for the ring.” He walked over to join the group, leaning against the stone wall and looking sideways at Nina. “So, she didn’t blast you, then? What happened?”

“Spell worked this time, but only lasted five minutes,” Nina said, peering into her brother’s eyes and laying two fingers over his neck to check his pulse. Brelyn yawned and batted them away. “I know, stop fussing. Magicka drain’s serious, you’d do the same for me.” She grinned and patted his cheek.

“Anyway,” Brelyn said, and paused to down a small, green stamina potion, inhaling sharply as it flooded his body with energy. “We thought of this in case the spells didn’t work. Just before you climb on Odahviing, we’ll spell you just like Nina did. And then, you slip on the ring.”

“I don’t understand,” Lilah said, a little uncomfortable with such a dangerous item in her possession. Not to mention valuable. Priceless, even. She’d not enjoyed wearing her wedding ring back home for the same reason. Jason had known she’d wanted a simple ring, silver with quartz or moonstone or maybe a pretty aquamarine, but no. His wife had to have a big, showy diamond. One she’d worried about misplacing so many times she couldn’t enjoy it. Couldn’t love it. “The spell lasted five minutes. Surely that’s enough time to get away from the city. The conjurers shouldn’t-“

“It might be. But you’ll be flying on a dragon, and excited. Nervous. You might burn it off sooner. Better be safe than sorry.” Nina gestured to Gillian and they each took hold of the safe door and lowered it gently into place. Lilah heard several clicks and a hiss as the locks engaged.

Brelyn nodded, watching as the font drifted back into place and sealed itself into the stone. “I agree. I had serious reservations about getting this thing out in the first place. It’s one of the most dangerous artifacts we possess. So, believe me when I say I would rather there be another way, but the risk the conjurers pose to Whiterun is far greater.”

“I’d thought to use Argis’s chameleon gear, but they’d still be able to see a slight shimmer if they’re looking hard enough. It would give us away.” Gillian began to walk down the hallway leading back toward Jorrvaskr.

Lilah frowned, but followed her. “Why’s the ring so dangerous, though?”

Gillian’s voice floated in the shadows. “Think of what someone could do with this. Sneak anywhere. Take anything. Listen to any conversation. Assassinate anyone. It’s too dangerous for people with uncertain motivations to know about. And even certain ones. You saw what we had to do to unlock that safe. Not many of us know what’s in there, and only a select few know how to access the stuff.”

Lilah nodded, her face grave, but resolved. She hoped Paarthurnax had more information for them, something to stop whoever kept screwing with her life. She shouldn’t have to wear a priceless magical artifact just to go outside the gates, and her friends shouldn’t have to work overtime maintaining wards and detection spells around the city. “Right. Well, let’s do it, then.”

 

* * *

  
“I get the secrecy, I do. Those conjurers were obviously waiting for me to leave, last time. But I have that…thing now. Is this completely necessary? Won’t Odahviing mind landing in the training yard to pick me up?”

“What, all that drama? Everyone rushing up from the village just to have a look at his brilliant majesty? Maybe cowering a little in fear? No, he’ll eat that up,” Gillian said, chuckling with Farkas and Njada on the veranda. “Farkas, remember the first time we, ah, met Odahviing?”

Farkas snorted and shaded his eyes, scanning the skies for the dragon’s arrival. “Gillian here called him and lured him into a trap up at the top of Dragonsreach. I have no idea what sort of metal and wood they have up there that can hold a dragon and keep it from using its powers, but once it clamped onto him, that red monster was stuck fast,” he said, using his hands to represent the giant yoke and shaking them a little. “He shook, and the entire palace rumbled, but he just looked at Gillian. He knew who she was, of course. He just looked at her with those fiery eyes and asked her where she got her armor. Told her it was too pretty for the likes of her, and he’d enjoy burning her alive inside it, eventually.”

Gillian chimed in. “The armor was dragonscale. So, you know. Made from one of his kin.”

Lilah grimaced. “I can’t believe he didn’t try to kill you right there.”

“His cold-blooded attitude was far scarier. Blustering and rage would have been too satisfying – that’s what a dragon’s _supposed_ to be, after all – and he knew it. But that’s Odahviing – never does anything he doesn’t want to do,” Gillian said, her smile slowly fading. “We found out later, he wanted to fly into that trap. Wanted to turn on Alduin. I didn’t even think about it at the time. Of course it was my doing…my power, my persuasion. It’s almost funny how wrong I was.”

Lilah gazed between Gillian and Farkas, the shared sorrow and regret on their faces stark and plain. She wanted to ask what happened, but at that moment, the wind picked up and a shadow fell over the yard. Odahviing had arrived.

“Just in time, I see,” Vilkas said, trotting up behind them and grinning as the enormous red dragon landed, perfectly balanced, on the back wall. Dust flew and the ground shook under their feet. “I never get used to seeing that.”

He kissed Lilah’s temple and pulled her back against his chest. Lilah smiled up into the sunshine. “Are you coming with us?”

Vilkas shook his head, his face still close to hers. “Not today. Balgruuf called a Council meeting, and Argis and I have to go.”

“Isn’t Gillian on the Council?”

“Gillian’s getting a pass because of who she is and where she’s going. And because Argis is available to take her place. But I have to be there – most of his itinerary concerns Jorrvaskr and all this..mess,” Vilkas said, his eyes scanning the plains outside the wall for unusual activity. “I’ll go with you, eventually, if Odahviing will stand for it. Just to see your face while you fly.”

Lilah wove her fingers through his and pulled his arm around her waist. She felt a tug at her skirts.

Maddy peeked out from behind Lilah’s tunic, keeping wide eyes on the dragon. “This one looks meaner than the gold one. The one at the festival. Is he mean?” The little girl whispered, but Odahviing’s sensitive ears pricked up.

He snorted and laughed hard enough that a few bursts of flame flew from his nostrils. Maddy grabbed Lilah’s hand and hid behind her skirts, but after a moment, crept back around to peep at the dragon, her eyes narrowed, this time.

Gillian rolled her eyes. “Odahviing, you ass. She’s four.”

“Yes,” he said, sniffing in Maddy’s direction, “and a proper little _tovitaan_ , is she not? Tell me, am I her first dragon?”

Vilkas spoke up, a little too eager to take the arrogant dragon down a peg. “That honor went to Durnehviir, just a few weeks ago.”

“Bah,” Odahviing said, and chortled again. “Then I _am_ her first dragon.”

“Odahviing,” Gillian chided, wagging her finger in the dragon’s face. “Respect for your elders, isn’t that the _dovah_ way?”

“If it were, we wouldn’t be standing here would we? This world – this _kalpa_ I enjoy so much – would be nothing, not even a page in a history book. And in any case,” he said, laughing again in Vilkas’s direction, “it certainly isn’t the way of the _joor_. Your Harbinger has yet to grow a respectable beard to cover his baby face, although he’s had ample time. Still an abject failure, eh, _mal kendov,_ you tiny little warrior?” He chuckled and gazed around the yard. Villagers and Companions snickered – Vilkas and Odahviing had exchanged such banter for years, and Odahviing could get as good as he gave. “How can he command your respect without-”

“Hey!”

Lilah felt Maddy let go of her hand. The little girl stood straight as a poker and frowned, then ran toward Odahviing, shaking her practice sword. “You don’t talk to Vilkas that way, dragon! Vilkas is brave and nice. He helps us–“

She stopped midway between Lilah and the dragon and whirled around, startled by gasps from the crowd that had indeed drawn close to see the spectacle. Her tangled honey-brown hair blew around her face in the breeze.

Lilah felt her eyes well – with her dirt-streaked face and sword held high before a red dragon, her baby looked every inch a child of Skyrim.

Slowly, Maddy turned back around and looked up, taking a step or two forward and lowering her sword. She studied the dragon, and it lowered its snout, peering at Maddy with curious eyes and raised brows.

Lilah watched Gillian for cues. The Dovahkiin didn’t seem alarmed (and surely she would be if something was wrong), so Lilah forced a smile across her face and walked up to her daughter.

“Maddy,” she said in a level voice, squatting and wrapping her arms around her tiny shoulders, “this is Odahviing, an old friend of Gillian’s. He’s only playing with Vilkas. Teasing, baby. Can you say hello?”

Maddy looked up underneath angry brows, her stormcloud face brightening a bit. “Are you sure? He’s not going to hurt Vilkas?”

The dragon laughed again, softly this time. His eyes rounded in what must have been a rare moment of softness. Even Gillian chuffed in surprise. “I must say, this tiny girl might grow a beard before you do, Harbinger. Her courage is a beauty to behold. A bit foolhardy,” he said, watching Vilkas saunter up to stand behind Lilah and Maddy.

Odahviing’s brows rose higher when Vilkas placed his left hand on Lilah’s shoulder and used his right to ruffle Maddy’s tangled hair. “But such loyalty is hard to come by,” the dragon rumbled. “A fitting addition to your…family, it would seem.”

Lilah let Vilkas help her to her feet, and watched Maddy take another tentative step toward the dragon. “Are you really flying my mommy up that mountain?” She pointed up toward the Throat of the World, her eyes full of wonder, this time. “Can I come?”

“Courage, indeed. I am flying your mother and the Dovahkiin,” he said, motioning toward Gillian with his snout, “up there to speak with my elder brother. And one day, I will take you wherever you want to go. Today, however, the three of them have serious matters to discuss. It will not be fun. Very, very boring. I’m not even going to stay.”

Lilah looked sharply between Gillian and Odahviing. The dragon looked worried, and Gillian shrugged. She wasn’t in on the secret, this time. Had something happened? Something new?

Maddy waved to the dragon and stepped back to tug on Lilah’s tunic. Lilah swung her up for a big hug and a kiss, and noticed Nina standing on the veranda. _It’s time._

Lilah passed Maddy to Vilkas, who kissed the little girl right on her dusty cheek. “Hey, you want to go down to the village with me and get a crème treat?”

Maddy nodded and grinned. “They’re called danishes, you know. I like mine with strawberries. Can we plant some strawberries?”

Vilkas smiled over his shoulder, and Lilah watched the two of them laugh and talk until they disappeared around the corner. She heard footsteps, and turned to see Brelyn, Nina, and Gillian waiting next to Odahviing. She nodded and twisted her hair up in an elastic band she’d found in the bottom of her backpack. “I’m ready.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all my readers! :)


	22. I’ll Put a Melody Inside of Your Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odahviing wasn’t kidding when he said Paarthurnax wasn’t planning anything fun.

“So, Odahviing said we have ‘ _serious matters’_ to discuss,” Gillian said in a sing-song voice, narrowing her eyes and trying to ignore the crawling sensation under her skin. Something wasn’t right – instead of napping on his eyrie as usual, Paarthurnax huddled in the snow, having waited for them to land and dismount. He’d nodded gravely to Odahviing, and the red dragon departed with none of their usual _dovahzul_ banter. His tired golden eyes flashed red, and his wings twitched. “Is something going on we don’t know about?”

If Paarthurnax heard Gillian’s question, he took no notice of it. Instead, he fixed his gaze on Lilah, tilting his head to the side and twitching his wings again, as though trying to disturb a pesky mosquito or a fly.

“What? What is it?” As she’d done in the courtyard with Odahviing, Lilah looked to Gillian for cues. But Gillian just shrugged, her expression impassive except for the slightest flicker of hurt in her black eyes. Lilah didn’t blame her – she and Paarthurnax were close, as close as a human and dragon could be. His odd snub had to sting a bit. “Paarthurnax,” Lilah said, stepping back and waving her hands to dislodge his level stare, “why’re you looking at me like that? Gillian asked you a question, didn’t you hear it?”

“I’ve had the pleasure of more frequent speech with my father, of late. He has helped me to…remember.” He nodded, his voice rumbling in his throat. “Yes. Remember who I am. And who you are,” he said, gesturing with one claw toward Gillian. Lilah noticed he still avoided Gillian’s eyes.

His own eyes flashed red, and a small flicker of fear shimmered up Gillian’s spine, something she’d not felt since scaling the Throat of the World so many years ago – her first sight of Paarthurnax, up close and personal and terrifying as the darkest plane of Oblivion. That is, until she got to know him. Befriended him. Helped him through the loss of his brother and the departure of his kind from their plane. But she glimpsed very little of her friend, now. Paarthurnax seemed more like a stranger, or even an adversary.

_He can’t really want to hurt us, can he?_

Until today she’d have bet it was impossible, but that didn’t stop her from stepping back with Lilah and readying a spell or two, just in case.

“Hmm… interesting,” Paarthurnax mused, limping over to the women and sniffing over their heads.

Lilah had no idea what was going on, but she found being sniffed by a dragon more than a little offputting. “I’m sorry, no,” she said, shaking her head and backing up a little more. “Gillian, I-“

Paarthurnax’s rumble cut through her barely-voiced objection. “First, I want to see what you’ve accomplished so far. You’ve been working on controlling your power, have you not? _Dovahkiin_ informed me of your gross misuse of the mind voice – all the way from Dawnstar, was it not? Demonstrate for me. Try to connect with my mind, but with a little more finesse this time, if that’s possible.”

“I’m not sure,” Lilah said, forcing herself to take a step toward the dragon despite her unease. “It’s not come easy so far, and not without some catalyst – anger or exhaustion, or both.”

Lilah’s magic hadn’t injured Nina in response to her spell that morning, and she’d worn the invisibility ring all the way up the mountain without killing its enchantment. Small steps, and Lilah felt pride in her success, but as far as actively controlling her magic? Not even close. She and Gillian had practiced steadily for the past two weeks with no real improvement, and Lilah did not count what happened last Sundas as progress: they’d worked into the wee hours, and were just about to call it quits and collapse from exhaustion, when their minds linked without Lilah’s intent. It might have been fine – no physical harm this time, thank the gods – except she’d been thinking of going home to Vilkas. And in Lilah’s thoughts, Vilkas had…not been dressed. Lilah’s face reddened the least little bit at the memory of scurrying home that night, Gillian’s shrieks of laughter ringing all the way past Belethor’s shop.

“Nothing worthwhile is easy. Try,” Paarthurnax rumbled, a fever lighting his eyes. He crouched a little in the snow.

Lilah took a deep breath and envisioned a pathway between her mind and the dragon’s. A telephone line, a Doctor Who-esque wormhole. A string and two tin cans, even. But nothing worked – her thoughts remained stubbornly isolated and still. And this time, she knew why – her trust in Gillian notwithstanding, she had no intention of opening her mind to a hostile, head-sniffing dragon.

“Unworthy, the both of you. I never should have divulged the secret of the mind voice,” Paarthurnax said and snorted a little, a gout of fire spraying from his snout.

Shocked by Paarthurnax’s words, his venomous tone, Lilah barely had time to fall to the side, avoiding the flames by the skin of her teeth. Gillian grabbed her arm and helped her up, running back toward a snow-covered boulder to shelter from a second volley. “What’s he doing?” Lilah peeked over the boulder. Paarthurnax stepped toward them, and she felt Gillian flinch. “I thought we were supposed to be practicing control! This is _not_ control!”

The dragon roared. A spray of ice splintered around them, and Gillian deployed a shimmering blue ward. “Paarthurnax,” she yelled, “I hope you’re doing what I think you’re doing, but-“

Paarthurnax showered them both with more ice spikes. Lilah felt Gillian’s ward shake a little, but it held fast under the dragon’s barrage. “You’ll be no help to Skyrim at this rate, _tovitaan_!” Paarthurnax roared, sneering, a dark chuckle escaping his maw. “I might as well find that portal myself and shove you through it. Stop wasting my time.”

Gillian rolled her eyes, but the squareness of her shoulders and droplets of sweat beading on her forehead belied the casual gesture. “Paarthurnax, stop! It’s not going to work-“

Paarthurnax shot another column of fire their way. “Or, when I find the portal, perhaps I’ll erase it from existence. You’d never see your family again.” The dragon’s flame-red eyes shifted from Gillian to Lilah and back again. “Or, I could leave you in Skyrim and thrust your new family through the portal instead. Your daughter. Your _lover_ ,” he spat. “Your friends. Even the _dovahkiin_ , here.”

He hit them with another icy blast. Lilah gasped as an ice spike penetrated halfway through the ward. “Is he serious, or just trying to make me mad? This,” she said, her voice shaking, “this feels _real_.”

“I…I don’t know. I’m sorry,” Gillian whispered, unshed tears shining in her eyes. She reinforced her ward. “If we have to make a run for it, there’s a cave right below this peak we might be able to slide down and reach. But…”

Lilah nodded, her heart sinking at Gillian’s insecurity. She swallowed and backed up again. Paarthurnax advanced, and Lilah felt something stir to life deep in her core. Just a spark, but it raced through her body, threatening to boil the blood beneath her skin. If only she could touch it, hold onto it. She closed her eyes and focused, but it eluded her, like a vague itch between her shoulder blades that her arms couldn’t reach.

Paarthurnax rose to his full height and slowly, almost casually, ran one claw over the ward’s bubble-like surface. Lilah imagined she could hear the _skkkkrrritch_ and felt the ward shudder. The dragon chuckled again. “I know. I’ll call Odahviing right now, and send him to your new home. To Whiterun, Jorrvaskr. He’ll still obey my orders – _joor_ mean little to him. He’ll burn it to ashes while you’re trapped here on this mountain. And he’ll return, spattered with the blood of your people, and describe how your friends ran screaming, the last thoughts in their tiny minds an accusation – you sent them to their deaths, _dovahkiin_. Everyone trusted you. Everyone,” he said, finally meeting Gillian’s pleading eyes. “But should you ever really trust a beast?”

The spark racing through Lilah’s blood slowed. She could see it now, a pulsing white light on a slow track.

And she’d had enough.

Whether Paarthurnax meant to hurt them or not, Lilah didn’t know, and no longer cared. A dragon – _a fucking dragon_ – with the wingspan of a 737 loomed above her, spitting ice and fire and threatening her loved ones. She closed her eyes and _reached_.

“We should have done it,” Paarthurnax said, the tip of his claw slipping through the ward, “a long time ago. For Alduin.“

 _No_.

Lilah closed her eyes, fists clenched at her sides. Energy surged into her hands. She flung her arms wide, and the world turned white.

Gillian gasped and Lilah opened her eyes. A storm – snow and ice and lightning – raged around the top of the mountain, its circular maelstrom leaving the small patch of snow where they stood relatively calm. Paarthurnax’s eyes flared, and he glanced up at its towering height before settling back on his haunches. His mouth curved in a frightening parody of a grin.

In her mind’s eye, Lilah saw Maddy running through the fiery streets of Whiterun, her tear-streaked face covered with blood and soot.

 _No_.

She screamed into the wind and shoved with her power as hard as she could, pulling an icy gust out of the whirlwind and throwing it at Paarthurnax. He staggered back, shreds of his tattered wings whipping around his body. His grin didn’t falter, and Lilah felt something push away from the dragon. A channel opened between them, just a tiny tendril of power sparking through the space between their minds like electric Christmas tinsel.

Paarthurnax grinned, still. “ _I realize you have been attempting control, and I apologize for setting your progress back_ ,” he said, even his mind-voice gravelly and strained. “ _But the time has come to force your hand. Your power, your magic, it must surround us. He’ll hear me, otherwise. Please, don’t let go._ ”

“ _He? Who?”_ Lilah stared for a long moment, her eyes wide, and felt her body unclench – she hadn’t realized how scared she’d been until that second. He wasn’t going to kill everyone she loved, after all. But what the hell had he just pulled? “ _You scared the shit out of us, you know that, right? And what do I have to do with anything?”_

“ _Again, I apologize. It was necessary. Not even Gillian can hear this. You are…”_

The dragon sighed and shook his great head, his grin unsettling compared to his morose mind-voice. “ _I still do not know exactly what you are, or why you can do the things you do. But for now, you are an advantage, the only advantage we have. Look_ ,” he said, and pushed with his own power.

Lilah stared, unseeing, into the storm. Behind her eyes, scenarios of pain and annihilation played out on a dozen hi-def screens. A giant man dressed in ripped, red robes wielding a ragged, red and black dagger. White clouds – portals, Gillian had called them – raining terror over all of Skyrim, its mountains and cities crushed under the onslaught of monsters and dark, slithering winds. A silver dragon on a crumbling stone throne, hanging his head in sorrow. Lakes of fire and great towers made of blood and bone...

“ _A taste of what could come to pass if we do nothing,”_ Paarthurnax said, finally dropping his grin and hanging his head. “ _This is why, and what you must do.”_

Paarthurnax whispered his plans, and more visions played through her mind...her own hands grasping that hateful dagger. Screams from black-robed figures, their bones cracking as they twisted and burst apart. _Good_ , Lilah thought, and gasped at that unexpected surge of bloodlust. She blinked. Red blotches on a surface of pure white. Threads of the finest gossamer, her fingers plucking and pulling their golden weave from nothing but air and darkness.

She gazed at the curious scene. _My magic_ , she marveled, watching herself create and destroy with a flick of her wrist. _But, how can I…?_

 _”Time is growing short,”_ Paarthurnax said. _“We will speak again soon, but you must learn how to control-“_

A sudden sliver of cold slid up her spine, and the vision wavered and darkened. Once again, she and Paarthurnax watched a silver dragon brooding on his stone throne. The throne hadn’t crumbled, though. _Not yet,_ Lilah realized. _The dragon is real - and he’s here._

The silver dragon loomed tall and proud, staring straight at her. Or _through_ her. Lilah looked closer – the dragon couldn’t see her, not yet. But he searched, his mind rooting around the boundary of her magic. Instinctively, she pushed again, and the storm grew higher, its winds faster.

Paarthurnax met her eyes and nodded, and Lilah felt fear tremble down their connection. She shuddered. Her experience with Vilkas in Dawnstar, in the sanctuary of the Dark Brotherhood, had been terrifying, as had her ordeal on the island – terrifying beyond anything she’d ever known. But if Paarthurnax’s visions proved true, she’d soon stand against something a four-thousand-year-old dragon feared above all else. Lilah stood petrified, and felt her knees buckle.

“ _You must not tell a soul. He will know if you do.”_

Lilah couldn’t help herself. She shook her head wildly. How could she keep such a secret?

“ _No one. You know what I say is true.”_

She sighed, a deep, ragged sigh, and bowed her head. _Alone_. Tears burned her eyes and trickled down her cheeks, falling hot on the snow at her feet.

“ _When the storm is over, try not to look me in the eye. It will make it easier to keep my thoughts at bay._ ”

Their very thoughts could betray them, Lilah understood, and nearly laughed at the absurdity of it all. The impossibility. She squeezed her eyes shut, panic seeping into her bones and tightening her chest. She didn’t belong here. This wasn’t her place, her fight. Every breath, every thought in her head screamed at her to go, to find Maddy, and do whatever she had to do to rip through whatever barrier separated this world from her own.

To leave.

Relief, cold and bracing, rushed along her limbs at the thought.

_I could leave. I could do it, my magic…_

A sudden warmth draped itself over her shoulders. Lilah peeked through closed lids and saw a hand resting on her arm, moonstone rings on delicate fingers. Gillian. “Lilah, come back,” she chanted, her voice choked with tears. “Gods. Lilah, please come back. Please be all right. Please…”

Lilah’s stomach clenched. Unbidden and unwanted, memories flickered through her mind on a seamless reel – Maddy shivering in a cage. _Click_. Nina’s kind eyes, her warm hands wrapping Lilah’s filthy, bloody, and bruised body in her own, clean cape.

_No! I have to leave. This isn’t my fight._

_Click_. Farkas’s strong arms lifting her from a horse and gently carrying her and Maddy into Jorrvaskr. _Click_. Aela brandishing her dagger and vowing to march back to Falkreath and slay every conjurer in the Hold.

 _No_.

“Come back,” Gillian still chanted, her arms wrapped around Lilah’s still form. “He was right, it’s my fault. All my fault.”

In her mind’s eye, Lilah saw Carlotta and Belethor and Anoriath and Fralia running through the fiery streets of Whiterun, their tear-streaked faces covered with blood and soot.

And Vilkas, his sword in the air and a war-cry on his lips, facing his death with crushing, hopeless valor.

_My fault. All my fault._

Lilah pushed her conscience aside and tried to breathe, but a strangled sob bubbled up from her throat instead, and she looked up at Paarthurnax. “ _I don’t belong here.”_

“ _Neither do I,_ ” the dragon said, his chuckle warm this time, and a little wry. “ _You are not alone.”_

Moments passed in silence. With a flick of her wrist, Lilah let go of her magic and opened her eyes, watching her storm dissipate. The sun reappeared, and snow hovered in the air for a split second before falling on the edges of the mountain in soft plops. She shivered, from actual cold this time, and looked down to find herself kneeling in the snow, her leggings soaked through.

Jeweled fingers snapped twice in front of her eyes, and Lilah blinked again, looking up to see Gillian, her eyes round as septims in her white, tear-stained face. “What was that?” She glanced over her shoulder at Paarthurnax and back down at Lilah, backing up a step and brushing snow from her own leggings. “Anyone care to tell me what the fuck just happened?”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Holy Mountain, by Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds.


End file.
